


Lesser Gods

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Blood Drinking, Dark, Dubious Consent, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Violence, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Attempts, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Vampires, real vampires no sparkles here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 21:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 81,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16710622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: Ten years ago, Tony Stark died…Only to survive as a vampire.He owed his undead life to a vampire who turned him to save him. Being a vampire meant understanding his weakness to the sunlight, the poisonous touch of wood, and the possibility of developing super powers. It also meant accepting being isolated from all that he once knew and loved. As a young vampire, Tony spent his time avoiding V-Corps agents and staying near his coven. Looking for a taste of fresh human blood, Tony visited an illegal Blood Den where vampires and humans engaged in illicit desires. A willing human offered him a taste and Tony drank only to find out that his delightful salty sweet meal was none other than Captain America, aka Steve Rogers, a Captain for the V-Corps. When the tenuous peace between humans and vampire shatters again, not only is their forbidden love at risk, but their very lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of the Captain America-Iron Man Big Bang 2018!
> 
> I would like to thank my artist massivespacewren for capturing the heart of the story. You can find her beautiful art embedded in the story. You can also find the art [here](http://massivespacewren.tumblr.com/post/180445864978/heres-the-art-for-winterstars-amazing-fic). It's not too spoilery! Thank you for doing a fabulous job!
> 
> I would also like to thank thegraytigress because I very nearly gave up on this story and dropped out. It gave me fits and I thought I would really need to leave it. But thankfully, with some cheerleading and her beta of the story, I finished. I'd also like to thank captainneverever because her contribution in Latin meant a lot to me! 
> 
> Author's note - the torture in chapters 4 and 5 is graphic and dark. Neither Steve nor Tony escape the torture - so please be aware! They survive!! Warnings and spoils in the end notes.

He fell before he managed to get to the safe house. His energy depleted and the sun beginning to rise in the east. He chanced a moment just to glimpse the rays but, of course, the pain shot like spears through his retinas. He slipped inside the Foggy Bottom rowhouse, closed and locked the door. Safe. He hated DC and he despised the rowhouse. The windows were boarded up, making it look like the house was run down and used by addicts in the local area. He rubbed at his eyes before he climbed the stairs to the living room on the main floor. His legs jellied, and he felt like his lungs burned for air. Which was a ridiculous notion. Tony no longer needed air. He didn’t breathe. Vampires, the undead, left the sweetness of a breath, a sigh, an intake of air behind when the world turned preternatural and the eternal lands of immortality encompassed him. 

He needed to go to the small refrigerator in the delipidated kitchen. From the couch he plopped down on Tony heard the thirty year old refrigerator running, clanking away like it was some kind of toy train engine. It sounded tinny and on the verge of collapse. He smiled. He had collapsed. Barely got to the coven’s safe house on time. He should be more careful, but the truth was he didn’t much care anymore. After being turned, Tony spent years on the run, but then he found his coven and then his match – his mate. Many vampires spent centuries looking for their human mate, but it took Tony only a few years. Human mates were considered a necessity within the vampire community, but a rare thing these days since the Treaty with the humans restricted it. Mates were an important part of vampire lore, though. A mate took the role of caretaker but also as partner for a life time – the human life time. Many vampires went through multiple mates through the years until they finally succumbed to the solitary depression of losing their human companion over and again throughout the centuries. Those vampires doomed to the sadness of immortality faded into legend. A mate was a precious thing, a person to share a life with for a brief time, to chase away that despondency.

Mates were difficult to attract because the human V-Corps harassed the vampire population all the time. During the last human vampire war, each side recognized the futility of a protracted battle for dominance. Humans died or were turned, and vampires went hungry or burned due to what had been misnamed the Blight. Tony read all about the histories of the wars as a human child. According to his vampire clan, Tony counted as a child barely out of the toddler stage as a vampire. He’d never wanted to join the undead but then Yinsen had no choice. The old vampire saved Tony’s life by taking it. He never held a grudge against Yinsen; how could he? The old vampire gave his life for Tony. Gave over the last of his blood to turn Tony and allow him the means to escape the terrorists who wanted to go far beyond the extremes of a war to eradicate the undead. He’d only been a part of the family of the undead for a little over ten years. Yet it only took four of those years to find his human mate. 

He rolled to his side on the ratty couch as he awaited the arrival of his mate. The fabric of the couch felt more like burlap and scratched. He didn’t really like it and he should get up and retrieve some blood from the refrigerator. The last few days had been taxing. Running from the V-Corps could do that to even the more mature and agile vampire. The war ended, and the V-Corps had been instituted. As a human child he learned of their heroic adventures. Everyone wanted to be part of the Corps. It meant keeping the vamps in line. It meant herding them to their districts in the cities, keeping the farm lands clean of the undead, and keeping them fed on pigs’ blood. It also meant making human mates illegal. It was better than the alternative that had been bandied about at the end of the war. Eradication. Get rid of the disease of the undead like it was a cancer instead of a gift. The Treaty laid out the guidelines. Vampires could live but not on the blood of the living. They had to subsist on pigs’ blood. Everyone knew that animal blood, no matter how rich, ended up being a poor substitute for human blood. All vampires were required to have identification and it should be clearly displayed. Checkpoints outside of vampire conclaves were set up and it felt like living in a kind of prison. It worked for the most part. Conclaves took care of their own, stayed away from terrorists who wanted to either kill all undead or abuse them. Tony had his coven after years of drifting and managing not to get himself killed. The days of being a billionaire playboy had long disappeared. As a vamp he wasn’t allowed to keep his company or most of his inheritance. Thus, the reason he ended up on Vampire’s Row in a boarded up townhouse with pigs’ blood in the cooler. Pepper had been good to him. She funneled him money when he needed it, and his genius hadn’t abandoned him when his brain turned to stone. How did that work, he couldn’t fathom. Generally, though, he kept a low profile. There were enough lunatics that would like to come after him and try and use his smarts and knowledge of the Stark empire for their own good, and to advance a cause he couldn’t support. Not anymore. Maybe as a young man he had. But things change. He changed. 

Maybe too much. He threw an arm over his eyes. If he seriously had to drink another pint of cold pig’s blood he might vomit. It tasted like old pennies in his mouth and was just as appetizing. Where was his mate? They’d made the arrangements to meet here. He hoped his mate hadn’t run into trouble. The law prohibited human mates for vampires, considering it a ghoulish enterprise. Sure, a mate supplied caretaking such as running errands during the day and paying debts a vampire never hoped to pay off since vampires weren’t allowed jobs in the human society. Vampires mated by definition with one human in all aspects of the word. They mated and loved one human at a time. That human did the chores and dealt with the daily activities of life but also gave over their body to the vampire. To do with as a vampire pleased. Some unscrupulous vampires used it as an excuse to do unspeakable things to humans, but most of the covens abided by the rules of honor or so Tony had been told. He knew he honored his human mate. Hurting his mate never crossed Tony’s mind. All they had to do was to keep it under wraps since human law forbade it.

Human society was steeped in contradictions. As a vampire, Tony finally got why it was important to have a mate and that it benefited not only the vampire community but also the human community. It kept everyone safe and happy. But humans and laws saw it differently. Tony liked to think of it as he’d thought of capitalism all those years ago. The machine of capitalism wasn’t to spread the wealth but to feed the monster at the top of the heap – the CEO, the owner, the Board of Directors. Those on the highest rung of the ladder wanted to ensure that the money flowed upwards and that the ones down below kept running on their treadmill of labor producing the profits. Union were a direct threat to that – union, socialism, worked toward spreading the wealth, evening out the playing field. Tony took enough economics and finance courses to glean the real reason unions got busted up and not supported by owners. Yet, the people at the lowest rung time and again voted and supported the big guys at the top, feeding off of the idea that if a union came in it would eat away at the vitality of the company when in fact it would mean that the owners and top percenters would suffer. People actively supported the idea of an economics plan to push the wealth upward with hopes it would trickle down. Never did.

Same thing happened with vampires and mates. Logically, it made sense for vampires to be allowed one mate in a consensual relationship. But the Treaty and the laws of the US forbade it, because it meant a population that the ones in power couldn’t truly control. Too many. Vampires with their immortality, their supernatural strength, their supposed glamour, threatened the power structure of human society. If they also had mates that meant that a growing sub-population supported vampires and their existence. The ones in power refused to allow the concept to their own detriment. 

No use thinking about the philosophical issues with the Treaty and the human vampire interactions. Not when he was so very hungry. He drew in a useless breath and let it sit in his lungs; it swirled around like the wind in the caves near Niagara Falls. Never used just a pressure. He released it and opened his eyes to see his coven mistress and queen standing next to the couch and staring at him. Her skin like the snows of Moscow and her hair as red as blood, she arched a brow at him. 

“You look blue.”

“Depression does that to you,” Tony replied. He flopped his arms at his sides. Life as the undead sometimes felt excruciatingly boring. Endless days and nights.

She knocked his arm. “That’s not what I meant, Stark.” She mumbled something in Russian. “You’re blue because you’re getting hungry, too hungry. Get some blood out of the fridge.”

“Yuck,” he said and closed his eyes. Lying here might be the best thing to do. He barely felt the scratchy fabric of the couch anymore. 

She punched him in the arm much to his chagrin and his outburst of ouch! “Get up and get some blood. You’re making yourself sick.”

He glared at Natasha, but she never flinched. She might look like a twenty something, but word was she aged well and might have been a Russian spy during World War ll. He’d have to ask around about that someday. He heaved his ass off the couch and rubbed at his eyes again. Shuffling over to the fridge he pulled open the door to stare at the pints of blood. How much he wished it was human blood. He peered at Natasha for a long minute. He bet she never lowered herself to animal blood. How many human mates had she had in her day? He knew her current mate. The fact that her mate and his mate happened to be work partners was a happy coincidence – he thought.

“Pick up a pint and drink it, Stark,” Natasha called and jolted him out of his thoughts. 

He reached for one of the containers. The coven provided the pints of blood mainly as a front just in case they were searched. Vampires conclaves without a refrigerator filled with animal blood were suspected of hunting humans. Bloodletting was not allowed. What the fuck did humans think the mating was for in the first place? It wasn’t like a vampire could fucking come! Well, not in the traditional sense, considering they were undead and therefore couldn’t give life via a donation of sperm or eggs. The mating meant something different, something wholly encompassing, something about blood. It was the elixir, the climax, the orgasm for vampires especially with a mate. Most especially. He licked his lips in anticipation.

“Stark!” Natasha yelled. He turned and looked at her. “Drink. Now! Your lips are blue, and your eyes are completely white.”

His hands shook as he went to retrieve a mug from the cupboard. She pushed him aside and got a chipped ‘I heart NYC’ mug and ripped open the bag to pour the cold blood into it. He’d stayed out too long last night. Maybe because he wanted to see the sun, maybe because he missed his mate. Just as he raised the mug to his lips, the front door slammed open and the Captain of the V-Corps marched into the rowhouse. 

“Tony?” 

The light blinded Tony. He squinted, and Natasha pushed him behind the pantry cupboard. “Door, Rogers, door!” Natasha ordered.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve said and kicked the door shut and locked it. “Tony? Are you- shit, you look like hell.”

“You’re late,” Natasha said and nudged Tony out into the open so that his mate could see him in his weakest state. It was fucking embarrassing. She acted like it was a business contract – and to the coven it was. It wasn’t how Tony saw it, not at all.

Steve walked up the steps and into the small kitchenette. His hair was a mess and his uniform torn at the shoulder. He tugged off his jacket and went directly to Tony. “You should have called. I gave you a phone.” He eyed Natasha and then examined Tony as if he assessed a wayward child. Tony hated it. Sure, Natasha and Steve had decades on him, but the truth was Tony had been a genius and a billionaire in his day. Sure, not anymore, but still he commanded respect – once.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tony said and then his sight went fuzzy at the edges. Sign number one he had gone too long without blood. He really needed a drink – a good long one too. He stared at Steve’s pulse point at his throat. 

Steve cupped his big, strong hand along Tony’s jaw. “Sweetheart, I can’t. I gotta go back to work.” His eyes searched Tony’s bleak complexion. “Next time. I’ll come back tomorrow night and you can drink all you want. I have the weekend off.”

“Get a room,” Natasha said. “And I’m not joking. Upstairs, boys. Now, before he keels over.” Natasha sipped the cold pig’s blood and grimaced at the taste. She set it aside. “Foul.” As Tony and Steve watched her, she shooed them upstairs. “Go, go. Before we have to let him take a good quarter of your blood.”

Steve never hesitated. He slipped his arm around Tony’s shoulders and then bent and brought the other one under his knees. In seconds, Steve cradled him like a baby or a new bride. With fast steps Steve went up the narrow staircase, never bashing Tony’s head on the walls or the railing. Tony would have blushed – had he had the capability to do so. Steve brought him into their usual room when they were at this particular coven flop house. This was Tony’s officially assigned house according to the Vampire Registry kept by the V-Corps. Of course, his conclave kept it as a front and Tony actually lived elsewhere. Vampires couldn’t own property, the dead had little legal rights, owning property wasn’t one of them. It just wasn’t allowed.

Steve elbowed the door open to the bedroom and carried Tony to the small bed. It was a full-sized bed, but the two of them together dwarfed it in some ways. Big, muscular, over six feet, Captain America one-time hero of World War II, and now one of the outspoken Captains in the V-Corps took up more than his half of the bed. He put Tony down and then reached over and pushed the door closed. Natasha would ensure that no one bothered them. The room was so small that Steve never had to leave Tony’s side.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Steve searched Tony, assessing him. His expression concerned, tormented in a way. “The Corps are getting problematic. I talked to Fury-.” He stopped and tilted his head as he laid down next to Tony. “You don’t want to hear about it now.”

“I do,” Tony said, and he honestly did, but his brain grew weary and his sight darkened. It had been too long. Natasha was right. 

“Come on now,” Steve said and unbuttoned his shirt. Normally for a quick drink, Tony would go for the wrist. Steve could easily keep it hidden with his long sleeves, his uniform gloves with their embedded wooden spikes at the knuckles (though Steve had a tendency not to wear them), or his uniform jacket. Tony needed something more substantial and Steve understood it. He wrestled away his shirt and pulled off his undershirt in short order. Embracing Tony, Steve brought him to his chest. A bite at the pectoral, at the nipple tantalized and produced a full bounty of nutrients. 

Without ceremony, Tony bared his teeth as his fangs grew prominent and he bit down. He latched onto Steve and curled his leg around him as he salivated with the first taste of the salty blood. It enriched and enlivened him. He heard a gasp from Steve as he went rigid from the first injection of the paralytic agent from Tony’s fangs. It suffused through Steve’s body and caused him to freeze and his body to arch into Tony’s bite. As Tony sank deeper into the flesh, teasing Steve’s nipple with his tongue, his fangs released the anti-toxin as his body recognized the sweet taste of his mate. With a slight whine and a sob of relief, Steve shuddered against Tony and then as they lay entwined, his erection pressed against Tony’s leg. The nectar of Steve’s enhanced blood streamed over his tongue, a feast of sweetly, salt tinged with metal so grand that Tony’s whole body vibrated with need. He felt the warmth return to his bones, his extremities reinvigorated. If he had a heart in his chest, it would race to meet the one beating against his hand, pressed so firmly against Steve’s opposite pectoral muscle. The rapidity of Steve’s heart sent shivers through Tony. Steve’s hardness against his thigh delighted him and his own body responded in kind. While a vampire didn’t come the way a human did, there were other desirous ways to find his fruition with his mate. 

As Tony drank down the thick blood, he experienced the energy of the serum through him. His veins answered it. When he mated with Steve for the first time, Tony never knew the qualities and benefits of blood laced with the super soldier serum. An immortal made superior in so many ways. Natasha had only smirked at him when he described it as feeling like he sat on the top of Mount Olympus. He became drunk with it, an addict for Steve and his blood. Their mating had been fast and quick, that first time. Tony hadn’t even known Steve’s name, hadn’t known that he’d encountered the famous Captain America of World War II now one of the Captains of the V-Corps. 

Tony had known he was on the V- Corp radar for visiting Blood Dens. Like other newborn vampires, Tony lived his undead life like a man planning to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. Every moment of every night could be his last. So, he ended up in Blood dens in a blood fever. Taking what he could get without considering the consequences even when the face of Yinsen haunted his dreams. It didn’t matter. Immortality aside, young vamps rarely lasted more than a few years. Ones like Natasha, Thor, and Loki were different. They’d survived the ages and wars. Tony never saw them drink, he wondered if they even needed to anymore – though Thor and Natasha both had mates. 

Going to Blood Dens, Tony took the sights of the preternatural world around him and drank his full. His path through the dens led the V-Corps onto his trail. He had to spend most of his time on the run. Pepper shuffled money around so he had access to his fortune, but it didn’t matter one bit when he met Steve in a Blood Den. 

Raids cleaned out the dens all the time, scatterings humans and vamps alike onto the streets or taken into custody for mixing. Willing humans went to Blood Dens for multiple reasons from curiosity to pleasure to masochism. Tony didn’t ask. Usually he found a human in the den and drank his fill. Leaving his unnamed meal in post-coital heaven and his own belly full. Walking into that fateful Blood Den, six years ago, Tony had been starving. He’d spent too long away from safety and he needed blood fast. He didn’t kill. He wouldn’t. It was a vow to Yinsen Tony refused to break. He would never kill again. Becoming part of the undead didn’t make him into a soulless creature seeking out death and destruction. Vampires had souls as much as humans did. He wasn’t going to argue the philosophical existence of souls or gods. 

Like all dens, he’d found it by word on the street and a few clues passed to him with an exchange of funds. Lower rent districts were the best places to find dens and this one had not been an exception to that rule. The low lighting in the vacant storefront threw the cops and the V-Corps off. He slipped through the dark rooms and then searched until he discovered an old refrigerator blocking a door to the basement. With his vampire strength he pushed it aside and then squeezed past it. It had a rope attached to the back so that any vampire could easily yank the fridge back in place to hide the door. He did so without instruction. He ducked down and followed the stairs with its half steps and creaking risers to the basement level. A bouncer type human sat at the foot of the stairs and rubbed his fingers together. Tony gave him the requisite amount and then the bouncer waved him through to the main room in the basement. 

He still remembered the stench. All Blood Dens smelled the same. Sweat mixed with blood and the distinct scent of musk and dirt. Several humans lounged in the main room, playing on their phones or dozing as they waited to be picked by a passing vampire. Several sported bite marks up and down their arms and necks. Most were pale, almost sickly looking and Tony passed them by even as some of them grabbed at him. He waved them away. He had been hungry, but he still had his standards. In the corner of the room, Tony spotted him. 

Tall, broad shouldered, handsome as hell, and trying to shrink his way into the shadows. Tony eyed him for a few minutes before he crossed the room and went to talk to the man. Before Tony opened his mouth though, the man nodded once and pointed to the back. Tony knew what would be through the narrow hallway – rooms. Rooms where not only blood would be taken, but also, he could have whatever he wanted from the man. He offered it all. Tony had licked his lips in anticipation. It had been a long time since he’d had a satisfying meal. 

Tony followed the man through the dark hallway, noting the musty smell and the shag rug carpet. It looked like the basement had been an apartment at one time. The man tried a door, but it was locked, and he moved to the next one. The door swung open. Not much greeted them, but a pile of cushions on the floor. No blankets, no bed. Nothing. It would do.

“How do you want me?” 

No fuss. All business.

“Floor, clothes off.” Tony had instructed, and something leapt in his throat. He normally never commanded during his feeding. He had always tried to be considerate to the human, but the man seemed like he wanted to lose himself in the feeding. Tony tried to play the part. 

His partner disrobed and settled on the cushions. He had looked closed off, beaten and bruised both mentally and physically. His body was riddled with injuries as if he had been in a gang fight. He had looked up at Tony and said, “What are you waiting for? Just do it.”

Tony might have walked away, but something in his partner’s eyes dared him not to, begged him to stay and change his perceptions. 

Tony knelt next to him and said, “Humans want us dead. Say the dead should stay dead.”

“I don’t,” he replied. “I worked side by side with Vampires during the war. The real war, WWII. We wouldn’t have won against Hydra or the Nazis without vampires.”

Tony barked out a laugh. “Sure, you did, pal.” His feast for tonight was far too young to have fought in World War II. He bent down, too hungry to stop himself, and he bit into the man’s neck.

First, he froze in Tony’s hands, paralyzed and then as the anti-toxic took effect, he trembled. HE shook as if he attempted to dislodge him but then Tony realized it wasn’t that at all. The mating reaction – the human’s urgent and wrecking orgasm strummed through him. At that point the vampire could chose to destroy the mating reaction by either drinking the human dry or stop drinking entirely, and biting while forcing the paralytic toxic back into his fangs. It ceased the mating and cut away the human’s ability to move or follow. Many humans, after an aborted glamour mating, ended up numb, nearly catatonic automatons. Tony lifted his head, to reverse course, to entice the paralytic into his fangs, but the man’s hand stayed his motion. He pushed Tony back onto his neck and whispered the word, please. 

The ruin in that murmured word changed everything for Tony. He drank his full but stopped soon enough to just seal the mating bond and then moved away to look at his human. Tears were in the Steve’s eyes and he said, “Why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you drink me dry?” 

In that moment everything changed for Tony. He brought Steve to one of his hidden hang outs. Took care of him. Nursed him back to some mental health. Now, Steve Rogers, dedicated his life to Tony and to transforming how the V-Corps dealt with vampires. The promise of fresh blood and a human who protected him drove Tony to near madness at times. Natasha had warned him against getting too involved in his mate, but that was an impossible piece of advice to follow. Steve Rogers was the absent sun of Tony’s days. To his detriment he’d do anything for Steve. They’d interwoven their lives and Natasha only shook her head at him. While he might never admit to Steve how very important he was beyond the physical, Tony knew the truth of the matter in his stone cold heart. Every interaction, every time he touched Steve it felt like the sun warmed him. Even now, as he drank, Tony embraced Steve as if it might be the last time.

Drinking his full as Steve rutted against strung Tony into a new bliss. Somehow, he managed to unzip pants, and then tug away Steve’s boxers. Pre-come coated Steve’s erection and Tony took him in hand, along with his own stiff cock. Sure, Tony wouldn’t come like a human, not anymore. Yet a climax for a vampire redefined the term pleasure. Against him Steve whined and nudged Tony to drink more. He would, when he was ready to come. Tony stroked Steve, playing with his nail at the very edge of his slit. Steve threw back his head making unintelligible sounds. His movements became more anxious, more hungry. Almost as filled with hunger as Tony had been when Steve burst through the rowhouse’s door. 

“God, Tony, please. Please I need to come. Please,” Steve nearly cried the words. His breathing came in short gasps, panting over Tony. It felt like Tony breathed the air himself. It suffused through him like the warming rays of the sun. 

“Little longer, little longer,” Tony said and urged Steve deeper into his need by lapping at nipple, by nipping him along his chest. 

Steve sobbed out a curse and clenched his teeth as he held back his orgasm. He knew that the longer he blocked it the sweeter and more potent the feed would be for Tony. With his eyes squeezed closed Steve said in little pants, “Please, please, please.” 

Tony kissed his chest and rubbed his hard cock against Steve’s fleshy erection. The difference in texture sent a wild rush through Tony and Steve reflected it, a shudder running through him in response. He knew Steve loved to take him just as he ached for Steve. But there wasn’t time and they both needed the connection. Delaying his satisfaction no more, Tony bit down with a sharp stab of Steve’s pectoral sending his mate into full blow orgasm. It only took one full gulp of heated blood to cause Tony’s body to answer. The pulse of life blasted through him more like the heart of an explosion than a wave. His whole body juddered. Every neuron he’d had as a mortal came alive and sang out, pulsating and hot with the memory of living. His brain burst into white stars and the night faded as he became the sun. He floated there, bathing in the aftermath until he felt a slight caress on his cheek and he realized he’d hung on a little too long. He disengaged his fangs and slipped off Steve. They still lay there, entangled and quaking from their dual climaxes. 

Tony turned over and lazily licked the wound he’d given Steve. His salivary glands filled his mouth and he spread the anticoagulant into the puncture wounds. The warmth of Steve’s body heat never ceased to amaze Tony. He couldn’t remember ever being so warm and comfortable in his own skin when he was alive. He brushed a hand over Steve’s chest and down to his flank. His uniform pants where down at his knees. Tony had only pulled away his own pants and boxers. 

He rested his chin on Steve’s chest. “You’re a mess.”

“You don’t know the half of it. I almost couldn’t leave work. In fact, I can’t stay. There’s a meeting with the Secretary of Human Security. He’s coming down to the V-Corps to address the rank and file and then I have a meeting one on one with him.” He wrapped an arm around Tony. Something cold ran down his spine as he laid there embraced by warmth.

“What’s it about?” Tony tried to sound disinterested, but that was hard to achieve considering Secretary Ross was a known hard ass when it came to vampire and human relations. 

“The unit hasn’t hit its milestones. We’re below quota on everything,” Steve said and shrugged the shoulder Tony had snuggled up against. 

“That can’t be it. The Secretary wouldn’t come just for one unit-.” Tony stopped and swallowed down his fear. Steve’s open objections to the V-Corps policies would get him killed one day. “They suspect something, don’t they?”

It had been coming. They both knew it would eventually. Living a dual life threatened them at all times. Steve refused to keep his mouth shut about the V-Corps and vampires’ rights, while Tony scurried about and followed the rules of living as a vampire after the Treaty. 

Tony knew that Pepper was having an increasingly difficult time shuffling money his way. Prying eyes kept constant oversight on the Stark fortune. Every few months, Pepper needed to switch off shore accounts and change the route in which he received his funds. 

Steve, though, he had it worse. His job centered on keeping the vampire population in its place. After that first encounter, when they mated and then Tony dragged him off to fix his soul, Steve had confessed his fears. “When we fought World War II, it was different. While a lot of discrimination still happened, the vampires – they were accepted. I remember sitting with Peggy and Gabe – how they were so hopeful that after the war things would be different. They wouldn’t have to go back into the shadows. I even had a little crush on Peggy.”

“They played that up in the movies, you know,” Tony had said as he placed a plate of steak, rare, in front of Steve. They were holed up in one of Tony’s safe houses outside of Baltimore. It was one of his smaller houses, but the people he paid to maintain it did a good job. They not only managed the grounds but lived there as well. They were in the main house and Tony took the guess house. A small two story house with all the luxury and none of the focus on the property. 

“I know,” Steve said. “I saw them when I first came out of the ice.” His smile had dropped then as he sat in the bed with the tray over his lap. They were in their mating honeymoon. They hadn’t left the bed for three days; they’d spent it in each other’s arms. “When Fury told me what had happened. How the Vampire Wars had decimated what hadn’t been scorched from WWII, I couldn’t believe it. All that progress gone.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. He watched it happen on television and on the streets as a human child. “Your perspective really changes once you end up undead.” As a child and a young adult, he’d spent most of his genius on building better weapons and restraints against vampire super strength. “Some of the time I think back and can’t believe how blind I was.”

“It’s hard not to realize that,” Steve had said. His frown deepened as they spoke. “I lost a lot when I went under. When I woke up, I lost everything, but the worst part of it was that I couldn’t even see her again.”

“Peggy?” Tony had said and pointed to the plate. “Eat. You’re going to get anemic.”

Steve gave a half smile. “Don’t think so.” And then he nodded. “They wouldn’t let me see her because she’s a vampire and she’s the head of the European Coven. Her coven is considered criminals because she fights for equal rights and acceptance as full citizens for vampires.”

“Then tell me how you got involved with the V-Corps?” Tony had asked as Steve tentatively picked up a fork and stabbed the steak.

“Fury said I could do good. That we could change things.” Steve chewed and then commented on the steak, “You could have warmed it up a little. I hate cold rare meat. I’m not a dog you know.”

It ended up that Fury tried to steer Steve toward areas in the V-Corps where he could make a difference. Routinely, Steve ran the beat where he hunted down and brought into custody the radicals who tried to burn Vampires and torture humans who associated with them. But that had been years ago, and their problems always lurked around the corner like shadows hidden from the sun.

“So, what’s Ross really want?” Tony asked again. He knew Steve was hiding the real intent of Ross’ visit.

“Suspect isn’t the right word. I think he wants to test me,” Steve said and then started to sit up, jostling Tony. “With me being so vocal as an opponent to a lot of the V-Corps policies and the new administrations orders, he wants to find out where my sympathies lie.” Steve kissed the crown of Tony’s head and then slipped out of bed, pulling up his pants. “Damn, I need to wash up a little.” Blood stains and come plastered his chest.

“Yeah I would think so. You walk into a meeting with Ross, just by the smell of you he’d know what you’ve been up to,” Tony said and didn’t move off the bed to follow Steve into the small bathroom across the hallway. He yelled to Steve, “How do you think it works?”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t need to breathe but I can smell, like really smell. Like a dog smell,” Tony said and stretched out on the bed. His limbs felt tingly with the joy of fresh blood. He splayed out his hands. Drinking blood from animals or willing humans meant nothing in comparison to his mate. “Do you ever hate me?”

A gurgled huh echoed from the bathroom.

“I mean I literally bit you and we mated without your consent. The kids these days would be all over us because of it,” Tony said. He knew he was just tossing about other subjects to talk about other than the impending meeting with Ross. Tony both wanted to know and hated the idea of finding out what the cretin wanted. 

“As I recall it, I consented to you biting me and asked for more.” Steve said and walked back into the room. He had a washcloth in his hands and his chest and face dripped with water. The bite mark on his chest puckered red and swollen. Tony had taken too much this time, it would take a while for the wound to heal. “So, it’s really no one’s fault,” Steve was saying. “Except maybe fate or God, whichever you believe in.”

“What if I don’t believe in either?” Tony said and scratched at his beard. One good thing about being undead, he never had to shave anymore. It’s just a perfect beard – always.

“Chance,” Steve said and went back to the bathroom. He yelled back to Tony. “And you’re avoiding the subject.”

“Well, can you blame me?” Tony replied. “You dropped a bomb after I mutilated your tit.”

Steve stood in the doorway with a towel again and glanced at the wound on his nipple and back at Tony. “I don’t have tits. And it will be healed within a day.”

“What if they strip search you?” Tony got out of bed and petted the bruise. “I could try and lick it more?”

Steve clasped his hand and stilled it. “That would just get us into more trouble and I have a meeting at 9 am. I don’t have time for the trouble you bring.” 

“Does that mean you’re not coming to my place this weekend?” Tony lidded his eyes and then demurred. 

Steve kissed his cheek and released his hand. He grabbed his shirts. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t say that.” Tony looked at the boarded up windows and glimpsed the smallest crack of sun peeking through the planks of wood. They weren’t like other mates, at least not in Tony’s head. 

Steve wrapped Tony in his arms and kissed him soundly and completely. When he broke for air, he said, “I’m coming. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Just don’t wait up today. I won’t be able to get back soon.” He embraced Tony. “Eat, please. If I’m late, drink the pig’s blood.” Before Tony could protest, he said, “I know you hate it, but for me, eat.”

Tony rested his head against Steve’s heart. The sound of it, a steady beat against his ear, might be the most beautiful sound Tony ever heard. He loved to listen to it all day. “Promise me?”

“What?” Steve brushed his hand down Tony’s back. 

“Promise.” Tony couldn’t vocalize the rest. Everything – all the words – stuck in his throat and clogged up his senses until the rush of fears flowed over him. “Just promise.”

Steve kissed the crown of Tony’s head again and smiled. “You’re getting melodramatic now. I think Natasha might be right about you.”

Tony pulled away and arched a brow at Steve. “You’ve been hanging out with Nat again?”

“Let’s just say that woman is scary sneaky,” Steve said and then finished dressing. “I have to go, Sweetheart.”

Tony licked his lips and nodded. “I know.” He looked around the pale room. The bed with the broken head board, the lamp without a shade, the tacked up wooden planks on the windows – how he wanted desperately to spend time with Steve at his hidden house far from madness of the city. Away from the vampire district as it shrank with each and every new rule and law the humans put into place. He wanted to offer everything to Steve, but what he had, the laws made him conceal. 

He gave Steve a little push. “Go.”

“Don’t worry so much. You know that Fury protects me,” Steve said. “I trust him.”

“I don’t think you should trust a spy,” Tony remarked and dropped down onto the bed. He didn’t think he could watch Steve leave, not this time. “He has some agenda you don’t know about. You do realize that right?”

“I get it,” Steve said and adjusted his collar. “But he’s not going to rat me out to Ross. He hates the man more than I do.”

“Well, be careful. We don’t need more people knowing your secret,” Tony said and accepted one last kiss before Steve departed.

For a long time after Steve left Tony laid on the bed and stared at the cracks in the planks. The sun and the day leaked inside. It hurt his retinas and it ate away at his strength to be in the light. It didn’t set him on fire, not like the Blight. Hours exposure to the sun could flay and melt the skin from him, the weaker his biology, the less his flesh stayed together. As undead his ‘life’ depended on certain sacrifices. His flesh was too fragile to take the light of the sun. These small dribbles of sun light were a cruel reminder of what he couldn’t have anymore. Though the night through his preternatural eyes and ears transformed into what could only be described as a fairy tale land where everything glowed and shined with a life force. 

When he was first changed he debated killing himself. After Yinsen sent him to freedom and away from the radical terrorists he truly wanted to end it. Not seeing the sun ripped a hole inside of him. It had been Pepper and Rhodey who’d found him, nursed him back to health, and devised a plan to help him survive. They had been his comfort for all these years. Steve had been his passion and his line to feeling alive again. 

He rested on the bed; his mind wheeled around like a creaking grocery cart. No matter how hard he tried it drove him around in circles. He always ended up on Steve and whether or not it was fair to have him mated. The mating bonded him to Tony. It shifted Steve’s view points of the world. That’s not to say that Steve had been an arrogant asshole and prejudice against the undead. Tony witnessed his breakdown about the world and the state of the undead himself. Yet being bound to the undead made his life more dangerous. It was illegal for any vampire to mate with a human. He knew it by heart, all human children did. It was a warning. Like the times in the old days when kids would have to do nuclear war drills and hide under their desks. It terrified children. He recalled coming home from school weeping about the evil vampires waiting to suck his blood and make him into their slave.

“Now, what’s this all about Anthony?” Jarvis had asked as he set a hot mug of cocoa and a plate of cookies on the table. 

Tony sniffled and tried to catch his breath. He was all of seven years old and already in middle school. His hands shook as he tried to pick up the cookie. “The boys told me about the vampires. How they want to enslave us all. They want humans to be on a cattle ranch but without cattle. The humans will be the cattle.” He trembled and new tears had formed in his eyes. “They said they like to get them young and fatten them up. They put you in stalls and put you in a harness and force feed you until the blood is about to burst out of you.”

“Good lord!” Jarvis rubbed Tony’s back. “That’s just a fairy tale. They’re trying to scare you, Anthony.”

“They said the vampires like to prick you and the blood pours out like a fountain. They like to drink from your eyeballs!” He screamed a little then because at that age Tony had a very active imagination. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, that is not true. Now let me tell you about one vampire very dear to my heart. Her name is Peggy Carter and she knew Captain America!” Jarvis sat down at the kitchen table as his wife Ana came in and put on the kettle for tea. 

He’d listened enraptured by the story of Captain America and his Howling Commandos along with Peggy Carter and her vampire coven. It helped him not be afraid, but it hadn’t changed his view of vampires until he transformed into one himself. A decade ago. A long time for a human but a blink of an eye for him. He’d been lucky to mate with Steve. As long as he didn’t sustain a life threatening wound, Steve would be with Tony for a long time.

As he thought about Steve his undead body went through it’s resting cycle. He really didn’t sleep, like he really didn’t climax and come. There was no sperm to release at the height of his sexual orgasm. During his resting phase his body only went into a kind of short term stasis. He was awake and aware but in a modified paralysis state. It wouldn’t take long for his body to repair itself especially with new blood. It did make him vulnerable to the world outside and the dangers to the undead. Natasha had joked once about not wanting little critters chewing on her body when she rested. 

“Vultures are especially bold,” she’d said. It scared the daylights out of Tony. 

Waking up to have a vulture plucking at his eyes was not something he wanted, and he avoided it at all costs. That reason alone helped him accept the coven and their small conclave. The vampires in his coven were much older than him. Natasha was the designated head. All covens were led by a woman vampire. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t ask. Thor was older than Natasha as was Loki who happened to be a trouble maker. Natasha had recently banished Loki. Tony wasn’t sure of his transgression, but banishment usually meant an underground conclave with no food but enough to sustain him. His body would go into stasis for years until she released him. 

While he mulled over Loki’s fate a tapping on the door roused him. He blinked away the stasis, happy that he’d had a good amount of blood otherwise it would be more difficult to wake. “Yeah?” He scrubbed at his face. He stunk like come and blood. 

“You might want to come downstairs and look at this.” 

It wasn’t Natasha, but Pepper. He wondered how long he’d ‘slept’. He didn’t get out of the bed but called, “Coming.”

He should have heard her come in the house. The blood must have really put him deep under, his body must have needed a lot of repair. It had been awhile. Pulling himself out of the creaky bed, Tony headed to the bathroom and spent the next five minutes cleaning up as much as he could without taking a shower. Once done, he went downstairs to find not only Pepper and Natasha but also Thor and Bruce in the living room. An old style console television was on and the report discussed the current visit by Secretary Ross. 

Pepper put her finger to her lips to tell him to stay quiet. He went to join her on the ratty couch. Natasha sat in the only recliner but stayed on the edge staring at the television as if she might do it harm with just her gaze. Thor hung close to the newel post of the railing to the staircase. He and Natasha were still at odds over Loki’s containment. Over near the corner of the living room, at the boarded up windows, Bruce stood. His eyes flitted around the room. 

As the reporter spoke the television showed Ross with a contingency of V-Corp troops behind him. Standing next to Ross a young man who Tony didn’t recognize stayed motionless. Tony swore his eyes didn’t even blink. 

The reporter narrated over the video. “Secretary Ross today announced the new treatment that all vampires will be required to undergo. This treatment will help the vampires remain in their natural state as undead, but it will also keep safe the human population.”

On the screen, Ross stepped up to a podium. “Today we’ve come to a nexus in our time. When we can rid both humans and vampires alike of this contention of mating and drinking human blood.” He pointed to the young man who looked a decided color of gray. “We understand the physiology of vampires well enough now that we know the fangs and their toxins can do great harm. But no more! This young vampire allowed us to remove the fangs and the glands that go with it. He is no longer able to drink from a human or mate to a human. He doesn’t have the ability to shoot poison into a human’s body to cause a human to want to mate. He doesn’t have the ability to turn a human. He is simply undead. Does he feed? Yes, but on simple cup of animal blood. He has no taste for human blood anymore.” Ross gestured to someone off screen. 

One of the V-corps members stepped up to the vampire and nudged at his mouth. The camera zoomed in to show the fangs missing. Natasha cursed in Russian. 

“Defanged and now just a normal joe on the street.”

“Not normal!” Natasha spewed out another diatribe in Russian. Thor answered her but then they both quieted as the reporter announced that the King of Wakanda opposed the plan. The television switched to T’Challa standing at a podium in front of a scene that included a huge black panther statue. 

“We oppose this new policy that the United States is trying to impose on the whole of the world. Wakanda has a peaceful understanding and laws protecting all vampires from this mutilation.” He held up his hand, index finger extended punctuating the words. “We will not stand for this prejudice. Our vampires are free to mate. And we have no violence against humans. Those vampires without mates are permitted to access our blood banks specifically designed for vampires!” The scene changed to a street in Wakanda’s capital city. It was night and vampires and humans walked arm in arm amongst the rest of the couples and human families. “The world has got it wrong. These vampires are our brothers and sisters. Our family. We cannot abandon them. We cannot in good conscience condone this new policy.”

The scene went back to the reporter as he stated the World Court and the United Nations would take up the resolution. Natasha grabbed her phone and began cursing again in Russian. It was Thor who tried to calm her down. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down. You know what happened the last time they tried this shit in Germany.” Natasha said as she stood up, phone in hand. “If we let them do this to us again-.”

“What happened in Germany?” Tony asked, and Pepper leaned over to turn off the television. 

Natasha whipped around and glared at him. “I don’t have time for a history lesson. But what they are doing essentially leads to a condition l can only describe as truly undead with no real consciousness.”

“Like a zombie?” Pepper said and blanched at her own words.

“Yes, my fair human. A zombie. This has been tried multiple times in the past and the world has been overrun with mindless undead. They may not look for blood, but they care not what they eat as long as it is fresh, and it is raw.” Thor studied his coven leader. “Why would they do this when they know the consequences, I don’t know.”

As mistress of the coven, head of their family, Natasha directed what they would do, how they would handle the situation. She ignored Thor’s concern and said, “Stay low. Scatter. Go to your hidden safe houses. I want no one here by dusk. I’ll contact Carter in Europe and see how they are handling it. I’ll also contact Carol, Wanda, Helen, and Diana to see if they have any plans.” 

“What about-?” Tony tasted the remnants of blood in his mouth. “What about our humans?”

Pepper touched his shoulder. She knew he had a human just not who. It was better to keep these things secret. She had even offered herself once. Early on during his youngest days when the thirst would come over him and he hadn’t mated. But he couldn’t do that to her. But he had to Steve. And now Steve would be caught up in this nightmare. 

“If you can get in touch with them and not alert the authorities have at it. But otherwise, no. You’ll have to hunt.” She smirked at Thor as Bruce wilted further into the corner. “It’ll be fun. Like old times.”

“Be like a kick in the head,” Bruce muttered. As Tony said, “I don’t want to hunt.” He’d made a promise to Yinsen once. It felt like a million years ago.

Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Pepper-.”

“Sorry, Potts, but you have to go.” Natasha wasn’t taking any protests. Pepper only nodded and clasped Tony’s shoulders. 

“Be safe.”

“Yeah don’t worry. Turning into a mindless zombie isn’t on my to do list.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Her warmth and loveliness a fragrant bloom against his cooler cheek. She looked at him in the eye which she rarely did anymore. His preternatural eyes disarmed people. He knew that. It was part of the glamour myth of vampires. 

“Take care of yourself, Tony.”

He nodded, and she slipped away from him. Another part of his human life gone. Once she left Natasha turned to him. Her urgency vibrated through the room.

“You find out what Rogers knows. We have to play our cards right. He’s the key.”

He glanced around the room. Both Thor and Bruce remained silent, obviously agreeing with her course of action. “I won’t put him in danger.”

“You might have to,” Natasha said. “This isn’t just about you anymore, Stark. It involves all of us.”

He considered them. They were his family now. He’d left behind the memories of being human when he transformed. It was about survival. This wasn’t a game, not anymore. “Sure.” He stood there as they left the room and the sense of betrayal hung heavy in the air. 

Later as the evening dusted over the city, Tony set out to go to the safe house that he and Steve were supposed to meet at this weekend. He’d brought Bruce along with a cooler of pig’s blood. The vampire hadn’t had human blood in over a dozen years. They drove Tony’s SUV to the perimeter of the city, leaving the heat and the coven behind them. Bruce refused to say a word. They worked to avoid the checkpoints. It wasn’t hard, Steve always updated Tony on information related to the V-Corps movements when he was able.

Bruce and Tony had become close over the last decade. Bruce had been a scientist in his former life and since Tony still had a tendency to tinker and invent things for a company he no longer officially owned or worked for, they naturally hit it off. 

He installed a laboratory in several of his safe houses and Bruce routinely stayed there. He never ventured to the city unless he needed to, and Tony wondered what drew him in this time. As they made their way down the quiet roads, Tony asked, “Came to the city, huh?”

Bruce stared ahead and the violet blue sky with the glimmering lights. Even now Tony still marveled at the sights, the beauty of the night that blind humans could not see. Tony waited for an answer and Bruce offered none. So Tony tried a different tactic. “Are you going to stay with me or someplace else?”

That jogged him out of his reverie. “Huh? What? Stay?”

“While we lay low. Are you hanging with me or someplace else?” Tony hated to push the point. Of course, Bruce knew about Steve, but Tony only knew that Bruce didn’t have a mate. Or Tony figured he never mated because he carried the damned cooler everywhere. 

“Maybe it would be better, you know. Wouldn’t have all the stress anymore.” Bruce stifled an awkward sounding laugh. “Though eating someone’s brains sure doesn’t sound any better.”

“Cripes, Bruce don’t tell me you’d actually consider it? You would consider having them defang you?” Tony clenched the steering wheel. The last few years had been good to Tony especially because Steve had been in them. He understood the anxiety, the sheer terror that Bruce must feel on an everyday basis. Tony went through it in the earliest years when he raced across the city, the county, the country, running away from the need to hunt and trying to find an alternative. 

Bruce brushed a shaking hand through his hair. “You don’t know, Tony. This whole thing stresses me out and then he comes out.”

“He?” Tony spared a glance at Bruce and then back to the road. The stars in the sky and his supernatural senses made it so that the landscape around them had an ethereal glow in purples and lavender and pinks. When he looked at Bruce though a decidedly green tinge warped his skin.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t turned like normal vampires,” Bruce said and bit back his lips. “It was an experiment. We were trying to reverse the whole thing. You know? We wanted to save the undead. I swear it. It didn’t work. I used the serum on me – it was supposed to be a mixture of the super soldier serum like Steve has and a cure for the vampire disease.”

Tony tightened his grip on the wheel; few used the term disease anymore. It was just accepted now that the vampire species of humans was just that a species. Not a regular one – not one that could be defined by the norms of biology, but something outside the natural. Disease wasn’t used, hadn’t been used for decades, but here Bruce was confessing to the fact that in the few decades, he was part of an experiment to reverse the disease, using the term disease. 

“It didn’t do that. We couldn’t get a control volunteer. Not after the animal work,” Bruce said and looked at the passing landscape. “So I tried it. I knew, knew in my gut that the serum would protect me. But it didn’t. It couldn’t. Not like it should have. We didn’t have the right formula for the serum, not really. And now I’m an abomination. Not a vampire, not a human. Just him.”

“Who is him?” Tony said and seriously considered whether or not he should be in the car with Bruce alone. Yet, they’d spent time together in Tony’s labs, and nothing had ever happened.

“You don’t want to know. But when he gets hungry,” Bruce said and shook his head.

“Don’t you have a mate? A human?” Tony said, and he knew the answer. He didn’t know why he asked. Bruce tugged at his hair a few times and he rocked in his seat. “Hey, you’re not going to go all crazy now are you?” Where the fuck was Natasha when he needed her?

Bruce hugged his arms around his torso and shook his head. “Just don’t talk about it. Okay. This whole thing is designed to stress me out.” He snorted a little and Tony snapped his attention to the road. It would take most of the night to get to the safe house, so he focused on that while at the same time eyeing Bruce every now and then to check his status.

When they stopped for gas, Bruce climbed in the back. He stayed there through the rest of the drive. Every now and again, Tony would hear a little burp or a slurp. How much blood Bruce downed, Tony didn’t want to know. Would they have enough once they got to the safe house. He would have to reach out to Pepper and ensure the place was fully stocked.

Stopping for gas a second time, Tony noted it was near dawn. They’d get to the safe house just on time. He pumped the gas and went to the store to pay since the pumps were old fashion and required payment inside of the store. The cashier eyed him and kept furtively looking under his counter. He must have a wooden stake. Just ridiculous. Like a wooden stake through the heart wouldn’t mistakenly kill a human as well. Just to be a dick, he loaded the counter with all kinds of candy from Snickers bars to jelly beans. The cashier screwed up his pimply face and made the sale. For shits and giggles after the kid finished stashing all of the candy in a bag, Tony grabbed it, tossed the cash on the counter, and then snarled at him showing his fangs. The kid nearly fainted. Tony laughed all the way to the SUV. He tossed the candy to the passenger seat and said to Bruce, “You okay back there?”

“How much longer?”

“Less than an hour. Just relax.” He started the vehicle and peeled away from the station. In butt fuck no where they rarely saw vampires. He wasn’t surprised at the reaction. Instead of dwelling on it, Tony called Pepper. It was far too early, he knew that, but he also knew she would answer. It took five rings but she groggily answered the phone.

“Wh? Tony?”

“Yeah.”

Almost immediately she grew alert. “Thank god. I was so worried. They are putting out calls for all covens to come in and get the surgery. They put out a warning that any coven or individual vampire who doesn’t have the surgery will be deemed a criminal and will be hunted down. They’re going to clean out the covens this weekend.” 

“Well, Nat kind of expected that. We’re all going to ground. Can you make sure our finances stay solvent?” He hated to put her in the middle of this, but he wanted to ensure the safety and well being of his coven. 

“Yes. Anything Tony. What about your mates? Your humans?” 

“That’s a little more complicated.” He didn’t want to explain everything. The idea of losing her as a friend repulsed him. “Just stay off the streets after dark. Okay?” Especially at early twilight when the danger was the highest because vampires were at their hungriest. 

“Oh.” She paused before she took in a breath and then released it. “You be safe.” Her voice sounded small, distant, and frightened. 

“You too. Pepper. Nothing’s changed. I swear it.”

“Okay,” she said, and Tony knew she didn’t believe him. 

When he finally pulled through the gates of his safe house, the sun touched the horizon. The safe house was situated in the middle of the Poconos Mountains. They didn’t have the chance to unload the car. They needed to get inside and be safe from the weakening damage of the ultraviolet rays. When he turned into the driveway of the stone house, Bruce started to pack up the cooler. He snapped it shut as Tony shut off the engine. Getting out of the vehicle, Tony opened the back door. Luckily the tree line of heavy pines to the east of the house blocked the direct rays of the sun. He reached in and grabbed one of the coolers. “Leave the rest of the luggage.”

Bruce silently agreed and heaved one of the coolers out of the SUV. He followed Tony up the front steps. They were greeted by Tony’s former security guard who had become Tony’s point man on everything secure and stable for the coven, though technically Happy stilled worked for the company. Happy would conceal the vehicle in the underground garage. “I’ll get that, boss. You and Bruce just get to your rooms. The shutters are all closed, and the house darkened for you.”

Tony dropped the heavy cooler on the stone pavement of the porch. “I told you Happy, you don’t need to make the entire place dark. Just block out the sun.”

“Just making sure.” He smiled. “Got in a fresh shipment of blood too.” He raised his hands to Tony’s concerns. “No issues. We did the back-door deal and it’s not traceable.”

“Great, great.” Tony squinted as the sun peaked through the branches of the pine trees. “Did Steve call?” By necessity, Happy knew about Tony’s mate. 

“Not that I know of. He’s not due until tomorrow, right?” Happy shifted from foot to foot. “I only got animal blood, boss. I can put in another order-.”

“No,” Tony said and waved Happy off. “Tank’s all full. No worries about me for a while.” 

“Okay. Well, you two just rest.”

Tony nodded, and they started toward the mid-century modern house with its swooping roofline and windows. No one would ever think a vampire lived here. He looked behind him at the lightened sky, the reds and pinks. It would rain today. He shivered. He opened the door to safety and only wished he knew if Steve was safe as well.


	2. Chapter 2

On the top floor of the Vampire Corps building, also known as the Triskelion, a large, spacious, nearly fully sun exposed office sat. The windows allowed in full daylight as if to symbolically exclude the very persons they were commissioned to regulate (or control as Steve now thought about it). He walked to the office, passing familiar faces as he went. The V-Corps had its faults. It was split into two factions. One faction was headed up by the likes of Rumlow and his cohorts pledged to the idea that all vampires were a scourge of the Earth, abominations, and an infection on the human populace. From that faction reports of brutality were commonplace. Steve, on the other hand, ascribed to the faction of mutual existence. Hell, he had to – considering. Yet his real reason grounded in his life as a soldier in World War II. Sure, vampires stayed to the shadows and the corners of the world before the war, but then as the war dragged out and the possibility of a maniac ruling the whole of the Earth became a real possibility, they stepped forward and offered their services. He’d worked with Peggy Carter, one of the best vampires he’d ever known. She was smart, confident, strong, and beautiful. He’d wanted to be her mate for a while, but it never worked out and then he downed a plane in the North Atlantic. 

Mutual existence vanished during the human vampire wars of the late 60s and 70s, after which the V-Corps was founded. Coming out of the ice left Steve not only fighting the mental battle of culture shock in dealing with the future but also the emotional isolation of not being in step with a more and more radicalized world against vampires. He’d joined the V-Corps at Fury’s request. Fury was sympathetic to the vampire community’s cause and hated the fact that humans produced the Blight to wipe out vampires. It was only luck and good fortune that put the brakes on that policy. Steve joined the Corps in hopes of changing how things got done, changing the thoughts processes. Now, it seemed, that’d all come to naught. 

As he stepped up to the door of the penthouse office, it swung open to reveal the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary of Human Security. While Ross always looked aggravated, Pierce welcomed Steve into the office and offered a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Captain. My father fought in the 101st.”

“The honor is mine, sir,” Steve said. He remained calm. No need to show his anxiety and worry to these men. They were shrewd, and Steve needed to know exactly where Pierce stood. 

“Come, sit. Captain, you know Secretary Ross?” Pierce said as they entered the expansive room with its sleek, gray couches. The tables were glass and metal, reflecting the sunlight streaming in through the ceiling to floor windows. 

“We’ve met, sir.” Steve placed his shield near the end of the couch as the men offered him a seat. He straightened his dark navy jacket and settled on the couch. Pierce sat down on the section of the couch next to Steve. Ross stayed standing, arms crossed as he leaned against the glass conference table in the room. 

Pierce took a relaxed approach as he spoke. His shoulders were at ease and he leaned forward like a grandfather would to play with a favorite grandchild. It would be almost sweet except for the cold stare in his crystal blue eyes. “I suppose you saw the news conference today?”

“I saw a report on the news, sir.” Steve folded his hands and waited. He wouldn’t offer up any information if he didn’t have to. He needed to assess. When he’d left Tony’s, he’d tried to get in touch with Fury but failed. He had no idea where the Director was. 

“I know you come from a time before the Vampire Uprising in the 60s. With the move for rights for all Vamps and the breakdown of negotiations then the war, things changed. Mutual existence isn’t really a possibility anymore,” Pierce said. He reached for a folder on the coffee table next to the couch. “It was a great dream, but the fact of the matter is that mating is a sin against the natural order of things.”

“The order of things?” Steve asked and the rub of his shirt against the bite mark Tony gave him earlier in the day tugged and abraded. 

“Well, Captain, intercourse with a vampire is necrophilia, now, isn’t it? Vampires are considered dead.” Steve frowned as Pierce continued. The Secretary noticed and remarked. “Dead, undead. It’s still a disease that brings with it a clear and present danger to the human population. I understand that you see things differently since vampires came out of from their hiding places and helped saved the world against Nazis and the like.”

“And Hydra, sir.” Steve found he clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to relax. 

“Yes. Hydra.” He smiled and it reminded Steve of a fox. “So, you understand? Right?”

“Permission to speak frankly, sir.” Steve knew he should just keep his mouth shut, but he needed to say something. He had to. The star on his chest, the colors of his shield, meant something to him still, even if it meant little to anyone else anymore. 

“Please.” The invitation came from Ross. He rubbed his chin as he studied Steve. 

As much as Steve needed to evaluate where these men stood, they were doing the same to him. He had to choose his words carefully. “Well, sirs, it might sound old fashion, but I like to be able to judge people on their own merits and not on rumor and innuendo.”

“I think that you have to realize, Captain, that we’re not talking about people anymore.” Pierce gave him a half smile. “I can feel for you because things are changed, different than the war.”

“Vampires are not people. Biology defines life as having the ability to procreate. These ‘people’, as you call them, cannot. It’s my understanding that the men have no ejaculate and the women don’t have any menses or eggs.” Ross stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “We can debate the semantics all day, but the fact of the matter is, today in the United States vampires are not people and do not get the same rights and privileges.”

“So that means forcing them to be mutilated?” Steve leveled his tone. 

“Mutilation is a strong word.” Ross tilted his head and sucked in his lips as he gazed down at Steve. An obvious power play for him to stay standing. 

“I don’t like to mince words, sir. I don’t see that humans consenting to mate with a vampire and serve as that vampire’s caretaker as a problem.” Steve stood to his full height as Pierce followed suit. 

“You think all mating is consensual, Captain?” Ross scoffed. “You’re more naïve than I thought.”

“Some is an accident. There may be some forced.” He followed Ross with his gaze as Pierce went to stand by the large windows. His expression was in silhouette. “But the majority of mated vampires are in strong, stable relationships, some say even more stable than human relationships. Mating actually takes away the threat to the rest of the human populace that you’re so worried about, sir.”

Ross barked out a laugh and clapped his hands. “You sound like a sympathizer, Captain. You’re a member of the V-Corps. You’re a leader here, and what I see and hear now makes me doubt your position.”

“Sir, my position always has been and always will be to protect liberty and freedom. For me that includes all the people, and, yes, vampires are people, in this good country.” Steve wished he had the good sense to be that perfect soldier, but the fact remained that he would always be an imperfect soldier. 

Pierce raised his arm and placed it against the glass. “Careful, Captain, or there may be questions about your loyalty.”

“Then I have to ask you: what are you loyal to? The Constitution is a document that’s aged. It, at one time, allowed slavery and it can be interpreted any number of ways-.”

Ross cleared his throat. “We’re not philosophers or justices of the Supreme Court. We’re not here to debate. We are here to protect this country and to uphold the laws that are in place.”

Maybe Pierce weighed in to defuse the situation. Steve didn’t know but as Pierce stared out across the Potomac River below the Triskelion he said, “Sometimes to build a better world, it means tearing the old one down. And that makes enemies.” Turning to look at Steve, Pierce sized him up and then added, “I wonder, Captain, where do you stand? On the side of progress and a better world or on the side of stagnation where the status quo will surely tear the world apart.”

“Still old fashioned, sir; I have a soft spot for tradition. We did things differently in my day and we respected those who fought and died to save the world,” Steve said as he notched his thumbs in his belt. “I don’t think that inclusiveness is a bad thing, Secretary.”

“inclusiveness in your day still meant separation, Captain. You have to see that there will never be equity. Not with their strength, their glamour, their immortality always in play,” Ross said as he watched Steve with a critical eye. “They represent a threat to the health and well-being of every day, good American citizens. How do we know if they’ll keep to the Treaty? That treaty was flawed from the start. They could take a mate. They will always be stronger, faster, with superhuman abilities.”

Steve froze his features, didn’t react to their incendiary words. “From my understanding, , in the United States, humans killed by vampires for their blood is far less than the number killed by guns.”

Ross shrugged his shoulders and turned on his heel to face Pierce for a moment who was still standing at the window. When Ross looked at Steve again, his expression was firm, commanding. “I noticed what you said about mating. Do you agree with their practice to take a human as a resource, as food, as a play thing?”

“As I understand it, sir, the mating is consensual. I mentioned that before.” He could play this game, though he was never one for subtlety. “I don’t make judgements based preferences in that area.”

“Very forwarding thinking for an old-fashioned kind of guy.” Ross gave a little laugh as if to lighten the mood. It only solidified the weight of their conversation. 

“Back in the day, before the war, I saw what happened to vampires and humans living in peace together. When vampires aren’t allowed their natural function of mating to a human, hunting results. Or the Blood Dens, which no one thinks is a good idea. It’s like any other human desire. If you make it illegal, then people will still get it. It’s just not under your purview.” Steve trod on tremulous ground. “I think that justice for all of our citizens, including the undead, is part of the American ideal.”

“The undead should have stayed dead,” Ross said and then nodded to Pierce who left the window and addressed Steve. 

“It’s important we have you on our side, Captain. Many in the Corps are starting to question policy, regulations, and procedures because of you. The Corps looks up to you. The vast majority will follow your lead.” Pierce opened his hands as if in invitation. “This initiative will change the shape of things. It will forge a stronger future. It will take the inequity out of the equation.”

“Sometimes it’s best to learn from the past,” Steve commented as he watched the two older men. They were deciding something – about him. How precarious his position was and what they intended to do about it would determine his future at the Corps. “The Corps are filled with good men and women. I hope I can continue.”

“We need someone to support this new policy, Captain.” Pierce studied him.

Steve gritted his teeth. He wasn’t one for lying. In fact, Natasha said he was a notoriously bad liar. “I’ve sworn to do a duty.” Keeping it at that, he wouldn’t have to say if he agreed or not. 

They took it at face value. Ross clapped him on the arm. “We’ll regroup at 1500. Talk to the troops. Give them the lay of the land.”

Steve stood in the middle of the fish bowl penthouse office. An easy target for them. He nodded and proceeded back to the couch to retrieve his shield. He clicked it in place on his back. Just as he went to the door, Pierce stopped him. 

“Captain?”

He paused, hand on the door knob. 

“You’ll be happy to know we’ve installed biometric scans in the building.” He pointed to the ceiling, indicating the equipment. “It detects the presence of any vampire.” He chuckled. “Also detects any of their excretions and secretions.” 

Secretions. Tony’s saliva with the healing factor to close up the wound on his chest. Steve hadn’t showered. He didn’t have the time. He’d washed up. That was all. He offered a curt nod and then exited the office. 

Surely the serum would have cleaned and cleared his system of any remnant of Tony’s healing factor. The vampire coagulant was a direct remedy to the anti-coagulant that his fangs injected. The fangs also induced the enhanced state of arousal. He went to the elevator. The serum would have cleared it by now He had to believe that as he stood at ease waiting for the lift. 

He stepped into the elevator only to have Rumlow and members of his Strike team rush to get on the car as well. He nodded to Steve and then the doors closed. “It’s a shame. Don’t you think?”

“What’s that?”

“Perfectly good citizens being infected by the vamp bug and ending up undead like that?” 

The vampire ‘disease’ had been part of human existence for centuries. The vampires stayed out of the limelight, haunted the shadows, and by their own admission hunted humans when they couldn’t mate. Of course, it caused all kinds of consternation and unfounded fears. It led to rumors, myths, and whatnot. As the true nature of vampirism was discovered, the world went from fear to resentment to outward disgust. The idea that the undead crossed the border to be immortal and relied on human blood instilled in people an irrational envy. When vampires came to volunteer to help the world when it roiled with war and Nazis Steve had thought they’d turned a corner. But when he woke up, he’d been proven wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“They don’t seem to mind it,” Steve said. It was true. He never met a brooding vampire. With the exception of Bruce who seemed more anxious than melancholy, vampires in general were a generous people. They didn’t have to worry about disease. Nor did they worry about work. The covens provided everything except the human mate. The covens throughout the conclaves even tried to make that easier. They made rules against hunting, followed the dictates of the Treaty to feed on animal blood even though it did diminish their power. While they never followed the rules against mating, they still put up a fierce front to support intermingling throughout the human world. It worked. Except humans never were able to accept anything they couldn’t understand. 

Rumlow laughed. “Course they don’t, Cap. They don’t got a beating heart.” He smiled at Steve as the elevator stopped to allow more Corps agents onto the car. 

Steve watched as the agents entered the elevator. Most didn’t make eye contact with him. If they did, it was a short nod and a swift look away. They gripped shock batons. It wasn’t unusual for agents to have batons, but it was strange for them to have them unholstered, ready to go. Steve glimpsed one agent with sweat dripping down his temples. Steve counted them as the elevator stopped on different floors. Each time the elevator stopped more agents packed into it. Some were members of the Strike team, but others were dressed in suits. They were analysts – or pretending to be analysts. The air in the lift grew thick. The elevator stopped again. Rollins entered followed by more agents. Ten. The elevator closed. The agents encircled him. He had no choice. 

“Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?” He always was a little punky when it came to brawls. Rollins twisted around, shock stick already out and charged; he lunged forward as the mass of muscle surged to take Steve out. The batons crackled. 

Someone grabbed for his shield and another agent went for his neck. He crossed parried as an agent went to link a magnetic cuff around his wrist. At some point during the fray, the elevator stopped. Three agents grouped around him, forcing his shackled wrist up toward the metal structure of the elevator. Gritting, Steve yelled out and punched forward with all of his strength. The fibers of his muscles, his bicep, screamed against the resistance. He grunted as kicked, bashing his attackers against opposing walls of the elevator. Rumlow slammed into his back with the shock stick and Steve muffled his cry with clenched teeth. He pounded the onslaught of agents using his free fist and his legs. Like a battering ram, he swung around and smashed his fist into another agent, hearing bones crack and feeling them give way. He used his whole body as a weapon because that’s what he was made to do. A super soldier. Ready to fight. With a break in the battle, Steve jumped up on the wall and pushed his muscles beyond even their breaking point to overcome the magnetic forces of the shackle. It released and Rumlow came at him with two shock batons and his arm held out to ward Steve away. 

“You gotta know, Cap,” Rumlow said and struck with speed, hitting and shocking Steve in the side. “It’s not personal!” 

The shocks sent jitters through Steve and his teeth knocked together so hard he thought they might crack. As Rumlow advanced, Steve blocked only to suffer another arc of lightning to his torso. Rumlow panted, sweat pouring down his brow. 

“Captain America!” He spat at Steve. “Where the fuck is your allegiance? Come on! Don’t let them use you like this!” He launched another attack, but Steve caught his arm and twisted upward, contorting the elbow to sprain it. The crackle of the shock stick sizzled in the cramped space, and Steve took the chance of freeing Rumlow’s one hand to grab at his waist. Clutching his belt, Steve heaved and threw Rumlow into the overhead grate and light. It fizzled as Rumlow dropped unconscious to the floor.

Steve clenched his jaw as he snapped the shield up into his hand by a quick kick. He cracked the shackle off and hissed, “It kind of feels personal.” With that he turned around to open the door only to see a mass of agents in full military garb racing toward him. Spinning, he sliced through the cable wires of the elevator with the shield’s sharp edge, and it went into freefall. The brakes slammed the car to a stop, screaming against the friction. He went to the doors to pry them open since the car stopped between floors. Even as he did he spotted more troopers coming to attack. He pressed the doors closed again. The commander of the company outside the door warned him to come out, that he had nowhere to go. 

Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn’t. His focus darted to the glass window of the elevator. 

_Shit!_

One choice. He had one choice. Logically he knew the vibranium could absorb the vibration from anything. But the fall? Could he survive it with just his shield in hand? He cringed and readied himself as the pounding on the elevator doors sounded in the small space like thunder. He swallowed down his doubts, inwardly apologized to Tony, and then took a breath as he dove out the window, shield first. He felt nothing of the crash through the glass, only hearing the shards bursting outward. He splayed out his body, limbs open to try and decrease his velocity. The wind rippled over his face and stung his eyes. The roof of the atrium rushed at him like a bed of nails. He curled up, as tight as he could, bracing for impact. The jarring of the shield through the glass roof and metal girders shook him but he sailed through it, lucky not to be impaled on one of the metal rebars. 

He plummeted toward the floor of the atrium, only the thin disk of vibranium between him and death. Colliding, the impact rattled his bones and then shield vibrated so hard his teeth chattered. He did a second tiny bounce and then stilled. The whole of the atrium paused around him, all the agents and administrative staff frozen by the sight of Captain America laying on the floor. He didn’t have a moment to regroup. They would be coming after him. Pushing his fist into the floor, he hoisted his body up and felt every muscle ache and every bone shudder. How many bruises, strains, or fractures he might have sustained, Steve didn’t pause to find out. He staggered a step and then ran, full out across the atrium toward the parking garage. He needed to get to his bike and out of the Triskelion before they locked out the bridge. 

The ache of the betrayal and his world transforming in seconds overwhelmed the pains he suffered from the fall. He ran to the stairwell, managing to avoid any of the agents as the call for his apprehension blared out from the speakers embedded in the walls of the building. He rushed down the stairs, keeping his shield tightly gripped in his hands. He had to focus his mind, because it swung wildly to Tony and his fate. Was he all right? How could Steve get in touch with him? Had someone hurt him? Did he listen to Natasha and scatter to the wind? Would he be at the safe house where they’d planned to meet? His only thought was of Tony – getting to him – getting him safe. As his human mate, Steve felt the constant pull right under his breastbone to gravitate to Tony, to protect him, to care for him.. 

As he rounded the last flight of stairs, he heard the door to the garage open and the march of boots on the steps. Steve stopped and pressed his back against the wall. He looked up to see the camera focused on him. Grimacing, he flung his shield at it, shorting it out as the agents converged on his position. The first of six he managed to elbow in the nose with the sickening crush of the cartilage resounding in the closed space. The next two edged him up the stairs, but he wanted that as he quickly clicked the shield in place on his back, grabbed the railing, and kicked both of the men in the face. He found his footing on the other side of the staircase, closer to his destination. The last three agents surged down the staircase in a coordinated wave. Two jabs to the face and one kick got the first down and out. The second and third pulled out their shock sticks and Steve only shook his head. He pulled his shield onto his arm and crashed the edge into one agent’s solar plexus even as he tried to hit Steve with the shocker. He went down, gasping for air. The last agent stretched forward as Steve spun on his heels. The shock stick crackled, and Steve lurched down the stairs as the pain lanced through his side. He took advantage of the slide down and, turning, bashed the agent in the chest. He didn’t stop to check on them, just raced toward the garage and his motorcycle. 

Luckily, he had parked the bike close to the stairwell. He picked up his helmet, slammed it on, and hopped on the bike. As he heard the massive garage door cranking to close, he revved the bike and shot toward it, wheels squealing. Ducking, he flew through the closing maw of the doors, only to be greeted by the barricades of the bridge shutting down. A fighter jet hovered down near the bridge’s surface and the voice commanded him to stand down.

_Not today._

Instead, he urged the bike faster down the runway. The gunner opened fire and the bullets sprayed over the bridge, shooting up concrete. He weaved through the fighter’s gunfire, plucked his shield into his hand, and aimed it toward the rotary engine. It went true to its target as he leapt from the bike and onto the top of the jet. Jerking the shield from the damaged engine, Steve tried to balance but the pilot flipped the jet to the side. He went airborne but used his shield as a pick ax and impaled the side of the jet. He hung on one armed. Then, with sheer force of will, he got both hands on the shield and threw his entire body upward into a roll, pulling the shield free as he did. He tossed the shield at the rear engines, hitting one and then the shield ricocheted off it and speared the other one. He ran, caught the shield, and flipped to the pavement below as the fighter came down hard on the bridge. 

His bike was damaged, and he had little choice. He would have to make a break for it. Swim the Potomac and hope he got away. But then another sound alerted him of an incoming danger. An engine – rotors –of a helicopter. He looked up to the sky. Hovering over the bridge with the rope ladder dangling was a Stark helicopter. He spotted his second in command at the V-Corps, Clint, piloting and awaiting him at the controls. Steve latched onto the rope ladder and the helicopter took off into the sky. Only seconds later, another fighter zeroed in on them and Steve started the frantic ascent to get out of harm’s way as bullets targeted him. As he made it into the helicopter cockpit, a stray bullet hit his boot. He hissed at the pain but rolled into the copter. Clint angled the controls zipping up and around the more cumbersome jet. He flew directly toward DC, not to the more open space of Virginia. Steve pulled up the rope and got into the co-pilot seat, ripping off his helmet and putting on the headset. 

“Over the city, they’re not going to attack us,” Clint said.

“True, but they are going to track us,” Steve replied as he scanned the sky for any other fighters. 

Clint hit the comm switch as he said, “Don’t worry. We got help coming in. They have a tracker in your uniform. Dump it. There’re some clothes in the back.” 

“What?” Steve said and thought about how he’d worn his uniform to the coven’s rowhouse. 

“Just change and then throw the suit out,” Clint said. He concentrated on keeping the helicopter stable as Steve crawled in the back and dug out the jeans, shirt, hoody, and sneakers. The shoes looked ridiculously huge. They really didn’t fit. He tore away the jacket and pants of his uniform. Then he discarded the undershirt. The bite mark from Tony was very nearly healed. He struggled to get the pants on and then pulled on the t-shirt and hoody. He looked like a frat boy reject. 

Steve bundled the uniform up and with a jerk of the side door, he tossed the uniform out of the copter.

The perfectly sunny day darkened, and the clouds swarmed over the city. Lightning flashed in the distance. He’d heard that older, more ancient vampires acquired more skills and specialized talents as they aged. One rumor had been that Thor actually ended up with his name because he had the special talent to summons clouds and rain storms. Steve had never seen it before. He watched as the rain poured in sheets from the sky, thick clouds obscuring their path as Clint directed the helicopter into the worst of it.

The helicopter thumped and bumped as it hit air pockets. Steve gripped the console. “You can control this thing, right?”

“Most of the time,” Clint said and winked at Steve. “Just hold tight. We’re not planning on being airborne too long.” 

Steve held his tongue and his worry as Clint swooped the helicopter through the churning, threatening cloud cover. The fighter jet was lost in the distance and the thunder roared around them. “Who’s we?” Steve needed to talk otherwise he might panic. 

“Natasha called,” Clint said. As her mate, Clint would want to get out of Dodge as well. “She thought they might pull something like this. I was on duty-.”

“They didn’t ID you as a mate? They said they had scanners – biometric – installed in the building.” The helicopter danced through the clouds and Steve was suddenly very happy he’d not had lunch. 

Clint twisted the controls, his biceps working to keep the helicopter under control. “Nat doesn’t need to drink. Well, not like Tony anyway. It’s been a while. She’s older so she can fast for longer.” Part of what he said sounded rote as if he’d practiced it too often. 

Obviously, the biometric scans are useless after a few days’ separation of the vampire. That was useful information. Steve filed it away for another day and then watched as Clint expertly piloted the helicopter through the rain clouds. Lightning sliced the sky, but Clint showed no fear as he dove the copter into the chop of the storm. It bumped and rolled but Clint kept it under control.

“I’m gonna set her down close to DC. We need to get to safety as soon as possible because they’ll still be able to find us.” Clint battled with the choke and then got the helicopter to stabilize. 

Steve grunted and held on as the copter swayed to the side but then Clint righted it. “If you can go closer to the Northwest DC, I know someone who might be able to offer some support.” 

“Off the radar of V-Corps?” Clint asked. Steve noted the sweat on his brow as the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed.

“Yeah, pretty much. He’s VA.” 

Clint didn’t question him and followed Steve’s instructions. Though he hated the idea of involving his friend, Sam, in this mess. Months back, Steve had been running the mall in DC only to meet Sam. They’d joked a bit about Steve and the ice, but it had been Sam’s remark about sleep that captured Steve’s attention. Trying to acclimate to a new century had been one thing but dealing with his memories of battle and war had been something he’d spent the last six years ignoring. Sam had invited him into his group, and while Steve had demurred, they had hit it off and became friends. 

“Okay, here we go. We’re leaving cloud cover,” Clint said and pushed the choke down. The helicopter descended. Steve scanned the sky but found no sign of the jet.

“I don’t see them,” Steve said, but Clint nodded.

 

Steve wondered if Thor was around and just watching them, or if he’d summoned the storm and left them to their own devices. “Any more help available from Thor?” Steve said as he glanced up at the cloud cover and the rain. 

Clint angled the copter to a park near the area Steve had indicated and then came in for a landing. As he piloted, he said, “He’s come and gone. Done what he could do and then left. Thor stays in the background most of the time. He needs to get his mate safe, too.” Clint adjusted his quiver. “It’s the way the older vampires are.” He put special emphasis on older.

Steve strapped on his holster for the shield and placed it on his back. Not a great disguise with it on but he wasn’t leaving it behind – not to them. Clint cringed but didn’t say anything as he retrieved his bow and his quiver. Okay, that wasn’t subtle either. Steve chuckled and they both rolled their eyes at each other.

“Let’s go,” Steve said. They couldn’t take the metro into the city because of the weapons, so they needed to get there on foot or somehow find a vehicle. They hadn’t been walking more than three minutes when they ended up near a mechanic’s shop. The rain soaked them, but it did empty out the yard of the shop. Steve pulled his shield off his shoulders. He cracked the lock with one swing and watched as a man at the woman at the corner waiting for a bus spotted them. He only shrugged, and she turned back to waiting under her umbrella. Clint hissed, and Steve opened up the gate. He handed Clint his shield and slipped into the yard. Puddles splashed as he went to the back to the yard where the cars and trucks were parked. Shoving all thoughts aside, Steve found an old pick-up truck and yanked open the door. It only took a few wires and sparks to get the thing running again. He drove it to the fence and Clint opened the gate. All the while the woman stood there, shaking her head but not interfering at all. Steve hit the latch and opened the door for the truck. Clint jumped inside, and Steve saluted to the woman as they took off down the street.

“Think she’ll call the police?”

“Maybe,” Steve said. “Not sure.” He got the hoody off as he drove toward Sam’s place.. The woman saw them stealing the truck, so how long they would be able to drive around without being detected was a gamble. 

“How far to your friend’s place?”

“Forty minutes without traffic or rain, but since Thor decided that it needed to rain all day -.” He shrugged. “Might take an hour or more.” Traffic in DC was a nightmare. 

As he drove, Clint kept his eyes scanning the skies and the roadways, Steve asked, “Did they get to their safe houses?”

“Far as I know,” Clint said. “Nat and Thor were rounding up as many of the covens as possible. The conclave in Europe was on high alert, but no European nation has come out with a full support of the treatment. Yet.”

Steve clenched the steering wheel. “You mean mutilation.” From what Steve had learned about vampires over the years, removing the fangs and the glands that supplied them was tantamount to castration. 

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Nat’s been through a lot of this shit before. So has Thor – I doubt they’ll let this affect anyone under their safety net.”

“It’s been bad since I woke up.” Steve shook his head. “In WWII, it was different. We were together. Vampire and human working toward the same goal. I even remember FDR saying something about a new peace and understanding with the vampire community.” He relaxed his hands for a second on the steering wheel and then grabbed it again. “What the hell happened?”

Clint narrowed his focus to the outside as the rain poured across the landscape. Blurs of street lamps and car headlights flickered over them. “Some say it was a power thing. Others say it had to do with the immortality thing. People were really pissed about that. I mean, everyone suspected it, but it wasn’t confirmed until in the late 50s.”

Steve never thought about it. That wasn’t true. He did worry about what would happen to Tony once he died. How would Tony fare if Steve wasn’t there. It was rumored that some vampires once they lost their mate reverted to a more primitive state, where they hunted humans. He knew for a fact that Tony hated animal’s blood, though he’d tried to keep it a secret from Steve. When Steve discovered Tony’s little secret, he’d taken time off of work and spent a good two weeks with him. Over the two weeks, Steve learned Tony’s patterns, especially his eating patterns – when he absolutely needed blood. As a decade’s old vampire, Tony was young – much younger than the rest of his coven. They often shared their blood with him if they’d just spent time with their mate. It helped him get through days when Steve wasn’t around, but Steve learned the more he was around – the more Tony hungered for him. During the time he was on leave, Tony nearly drained Steve. It took him weeks to feel like himself again – he hadn’t confessed how hard it had been to Tony. Thor had chided him for his actions and made him promise to be more reasonable. He was. He also learned a curious thing about the serum – the more Tony took, the faster the serum worked to replenish his blood. The serum wasn’t a miracle worker but it rejuvenated Steve. 

“So, how much do the V-Corps know?” Steve asked.

“Enough,” Clint said as Steve made a right-hand turn. “But not enough to put our coven in danger.” 

He rolled his shoulders and asked, “The tracker in my suit… How long has it been there, and do they know about the safe houses?” Steve was certain he’d never worn the suit to the safe houses. There had been no need for rural Pennsylvania or New York or Quebec to know that Captain America was hanging about the place. 

“Probably a while,” Clint said. “I don’t really know. I was able to get a bit of info from security and ops but not that much. I don’t think they know anything about the safe houses.”

Steve accepted it. “Well, that’s something we have to keep in mind.” So many questions, so little resources. He would have to quiz Natasha the next time he saw her. She might be helpful now that he was essentially an outlaw. An identified mated human was considered a danger to other humans, as well as considered criminally insane. He frowned. This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to turn out – not the way he’d thought of it back in the day. 

Putting those thoughts away for another day, Steve noted a police car not far from Sam’s apartment but it didn’t seem to have anyone in it. He scouted the area and then decided to park about six blocks from Sam’s place. Steve found an old duffle bag in the back and shoved his shield inside of it and finagled the bow and quiver in as well. He shouldered the bag and they started down the block to see Sam. Before he did, he took his cell phone out, smashed it, took out the sim card, and then threw it in the cab of the truck. 

“Was that a V-Corps phone or your personal phone?” Clint asked as they made their way down the street.

“Personal.”

“You really are paranoid,” Clint said but took his own phone out, did the same and dumped it in the garbage can as they walked down the street. The rain had lightened but it still was wet and cold. 

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. They didn’t speak, not until they were outside of Sam’s apartment. It was a second floor walk-up, but they weren’t going to go in through the front door. Steve directed them to the side where the fire escape scaled the building. He jumped and hooked his hand on the ladder to release it. They both climbed up without a problem. His foot was squishing in the too large sneakers. The bullet graze on his foot ached a bit, but not enough to cause him to limp or impeded his movements. When he knocked on the window, Sam opened the blinds and greeted him.

“Steve?”

“I’m sorry to do this to you-.” Steve started.

Sam only shook his head and peered out the window as if looking to see if anyone caught sight of them. “Get in.”

“Thanks,” Steve said and scrambled into the window after Clint. As Sam shut and locked the window then drew the blinds, he added, “Sam Wilson, this is Clint Barton. My second at the V-Corps.”

“I assume that’s former second,” Sam said and shook Clint’s hand. He pointed to the living room where the television played the news. “It’s all over the media, man. Captain America’s a freak. He’s criminally insane. He’s been mated.”

Steve chewed on his lower lip. The duffle bag fell to the floor with a clang and he put his hands on his hips. “We shouldn’t do this to you.”

“You should, and you did. Now what do you need?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and stood – no arguments were to be made.

“You don’t seem freaked out about what they are saying,” Steve said and indicated the television. 

Sam tilted his head. “Remember Riley?”

“Yeah, your wing man-.” Steve stopped and shook his head. “No. There’s no way he could have been a vampire.”

“He was,” Sam said. He went to the back of the apartment and came back with a folder. He tossed it on the table. “It was special program – bringing vampires back into the service. Integration. They would serve the night patrols. Riley signed up. I was his human point man. Also his mate.” 

Steve placed on hand on his own chest as he sympathized with the ache that Sam must feel. “You were mated?” 

“Five years,” Sam said. He kept his face like stone. “When he got hit and dropped out of the sky, I nearly went with him. I felt everything drain from me.” He shook his head. “He was a good man, a good vampire. It would have continued – the program if not for the current administration.”

“And Ross,” Steve said and nodded. He felt tired, burnt out from the day and the news. “We need transportation. A way out.”

“I can get you to the border,” Sam said. 

“No, we need to go alone on this one Sam,” Steve replied. He put his hand up and warded off any protestations. “I get that you want to help, but I’m not sure what we’re going to find, and we need someone one not connected to us on the outside that I can count on.”

Sam considered him, his dark eyes murky with memory, but he remained resolute in his vow to help. “I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s good to hear,” Steve said. His attention went to Clint. “Which side is Fury on?”

“Well, Fury can be a motherfucker, but he’s an intelligent, fair man at the same time. He’ll be with us if we need him,” Clint replied.

“Okay, so.” He needed to lay out the plan, but he didn’t want to overwhelm Sam. Recruiting him to support a man labeled criminally insane was one thing – to ask him to support a different road, a change in the way things were run – that was something else entirely.

“Now wait,” Sam cut his thoughts off. “I understand leaving me here as your outside man, but don’t you dare try and protect me. Riley went down but he wanted to do the right thing. He wanted vampire and human relationships to be accepted.” 

Steve bowed his head and then looked up at Sam. “I can respect that. I’m sorry for your loss, Sam. I really am.”

“Let’s just find a way to change things, okay? I don’t like what they’re instituting.” Sam left the room and started to put together a quick meal. “I’ll make you some sandwiches. I have a car on the street. It’s nothing special, but it’ll work for you.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said. “We don’t have phones so we can’t contact you-.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “You two have never had to deal with the government chasing you for no reason, have you?” Sam headed to his bedroom. “I can help you with that at least.”

Steve silently questioned Clint but he only shook his head and raised his brows. He had no idea, either. When Sam returned he placed an old flip phone on the table. “It’s a burner. I keep it charged. Let’s just say I got a cousin who never has been a friend of the law. I keep it activated. Take it.”

Steve reached for it, but then stopped. “Are you sure? What about your cousin?”

“She’ll handle things,” Sam said and then opened the refrigerator. “You like sandwiches, right?”

“Yeah, sandwiches are fine,” Steve said, and Clint agreed. Steve busied himself with helping Sam, though he figured he was more of a hindrance. Clint drifted toward the living room. The television blared updates about Captain America and the sin of mating a vampire. Steve cringed the news. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you know.”

“I know,” Sam said. “The Vamp war caused a lot of problems between the humans and vampires, but that was ages ago and, for a while, we all thought it was different. That things were changing for the better.”

“It was back in the 40s.”

Sam sliced the ham and cheese sandwiches. “That was a time of world war, when the world was ending. Humans will do anything to secure their place in the world, even making deals with the devil.” He raised his hand to ward off Steve’s protest. “Not saying vamps are devils. It’s just that belief systems take a long time to change.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Steve said and mummed up about his own belief system. He grew up in a different time, but his mom spent hours teaching him about right and wrong. One of the things she implored him to take to heart was that vampires weren’t a different version of human. They weren’t even technically dead. They were just transformed. He had no idea why his mom pushed the idea. But he accepted it. 

By the time they ate their sandwiches and drank a few too many mugs of coffee, Steve turned reticent and antsy at the same time. Clint eyed Sam and said they should be moving – staying too long would cause all kind of issues especially since they ditched the stolen truck only a few blocks away. Before they departed, Steve jotted down Fury’s contact information.

“You might need it. If we call you for help, call him. He has the connections,” Steve said and clasped Sam’s hand. “I really appreciate it, Sam. If push comes to shove and it’s between saving yourself and saving-.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t say it, man. I’m not that kind of friend. I’ll be waiting for your call.” He placed his keys in Steve’s hand.

Bowing his head, Steve said, “Thanks, Sam. I won’t forget it.”

They ducked out of the apartment as the news claimed a witness saw Captain America and another man steal a car from a parking lot. The details were sketchy at best. The rain continued, and Steve started to wonder if Thor would keep it raining until they showed up at the safe house. Getting into the sedan, Steve tossed his bag in the back and they headed out of the city. It would take hours, possibly into the next day to get to the safe house. Clint hunkered down, deciding to nap as they drove, and the night fell over the city. 

Steve left the radio off and only the sound of the rain and scrape of the windshield wipers accompanied him as he drove. Finding out that Sam was sympathetic to the cause meant a great deal to Steve. They’d skirted the topic many times over the months, especially when Sam asked Steve if there was anyone special in his life. He’d kept the truth close to the vest. He might have hinted, but he never detailed anything.

Tony.

Tony was his everything, though even today after six years together Steve knew that he worried about their relationship. So many times, Tony asked about consent and whether or not Steve ever regretted what happened. 

Steve no longer held hope for the future he’d suddenly found himself in. Long ago, Steve recognized something different in his soul, his heart. As a child he accepted that he was attracted to boys and not girls. He thought it was a sickness. But maybe his mother’s tolerance for vampires had been a way for her to tell him that she knew and loved him still. But the world around him chose to fabricate laws of God against who Steve was. Therefore, the idea of vampires being a sin, being called the undead, and not being accepted for their transformed beings, irritated Steve. It sent him into a spiral. 

When raids happened, Steve went through the motions like a robot or an automaton. He barely felt his body. His skin was numb, and his vision glossed over. He saw nearly nothing. He wished that one vampire, just one, would be strong enough, or brave enough to take down the great Captain America. Because the shield and his name meant nothing anymore. It symbolized an America that had lost its way. He lost his way. 

Meeting Tony had saved Steve’s life. Up until that moment when their blood intermingled Steve had taken a fatalistic view of his life. He flaunted his abilities with a disregard for his own safety. Sure, he’d ensured the well-being of his team, but if something risky came along he jumped on it. Danger fueled him. He rushed headlong into hell. In hindsight he recognized his own tendencies to end things. That moment after they mated changed everything. Steve wanted to beg for death at that time. He wanted to get out of a world he never asked for. When he downed the plane in the North Atlantic, he never asked for survival. He never asked for anyone to find him. Bucky was dead. Peggy had been his lifeline. Sure, vampires had been welcomed into the ranks, and there had been so much talk about changing things after the war. Maybe it was the religious conservative hawks who put the brakes on it. It didn’t matter. Not to Steve. Not when he woke up and found out that after WWII, humans and vampires ended up in another global conflict that nearly wiped out all the vampires due to the Blight, a scourge put on the vampire population by unscrupulous humans. Waking up to the new century and the new restrictions on vampires killed a part of Steve’s faith in humanity.

Tony had saved him in the Blood Den. Not only did Tony not kill him, he carried Steve away. He covered their tracks, called in favors. No one ever knew it had been Tony Stark, a vampire for just four years, who’d captured the highest ranking V-Corps agent. Tony cared for Steve. During those first crucial hours Tony had brought Steve to a safe house, bathed him, fed him, talked quietly to him. 

When the second day dawned, and Tony had sunk exhausted against the bed, Steve whispered, “Why?”

Tony’s solid stone hand grasped his and he said, “Because I know a little about what loneliness is.”

It changed Steve’s life and his dedication to Tony seeded and grew in that moment. Over the course of those first few tentative days, Steve woke for the first time in this new century, some of his faith had been restored – because of a vampire. Since they thawed him, Steve walked the Earth more like the dead than the undead themselves. He went down not expecting to wake up again. When he woke up they’d told him the war had been won; they didn’t tell him what’d the world had lost. His connection to Tony transformed his mindset, rooting him firmly in the 21st century. He said goodbye to his melancholy concerning what he’d lost and set about discovering what he’d gained. 

Tony.

In popular culture, mating with a vampire entailed the glamour of the vampire, the supernatural power of vampires to enthrall human slaves. The glamour charmed the human to do just about anything, even suicide to appease the powerful being of the vampire. Nothing could be further from the truth – though movies and television series continued to be produced on the fallacy. 

Scientists tried to explain it, though they still couldn’t figure out how the virus or prion reanimated the dead. They couldn’t detect the infectious vector no matter how many different methodologies they utilized. Trying to figure out how the mating occurred stretched the definition of ordinary science, forcing the logical to the realm of illogical and the acceptance of the supernatural. To Steve, the glamour connection linked them through blood and something more. Sharing of blood caused the mating to click into place. The rest evolved from it. Some vampires and humans used the mating as a convenience. Yet others became fully engrossed in it. Natasha had taken Steve aside and warned him against it.

“Don’t do this,” Natasha had said. She stared at him, her vampire eyes deeper in color, crystalline and faceted unlike a natural human. Like Tony’s he could never really pin down the color of her eyes. Were they emerald green, sapphire blue, or deep violet? 

“I’m not in any danger,” he said, though he never denied what she inferred.

Natasha had looked over to Tony who – at the time – had been sitting outside in the garden of one of the coven’s safe houses. It was twilight and the jasmine fragrance settled in the humid air. When he glimpsed Tony, the heady perfume only intensified the feelings blossoming in his chest. “He’s a young vampire. Too young to be mated. We don’t want to admit it to humans, but vampires at his age long to test the boundaries. Draining someone dry is a boundary we all have to learn not to cross and sometimes you have to learn it by doing it once. By feeling how it is to stop a heart and fuck to it. It kills parts of you.”

“Tony’s not going to do that,” Steve said. His confidence in his vampire mate never faltered. 

“You can’t say that,” Natasha replied. Her eyes fiercely dark – almost black. “His powers will grow over the years and he won’t know it. He could lash out and hurt you.”

“Never,” Steve said, and he shook his head. “I can’t believe he would ever hurt me.”

“He might not mean to,” Natasha warned. She left it at that because he refused to budge, and Natasha wasn’t the kind of woman who battled and lost. She’d given him a warning shot and that’s all she was willing to offer. 

Later Steve learned about vampires and their special powers. About how Thor summoned the thunder and lightning. It seemed too magical to be real, but it was. He’d witnessed it more than once. Natasha had other powers, where she could literally fade into the shadows. She called it realm hopping. He wasn’t sure what that even meant. Yet, he’d witnessed her disappear. He figured she must be older than she looked, much older. Some said from the early last century, others pinned her as the lost daughter of the Russian Czar. Who knew? 

Since then Steve only gave passing thoughts to the possibilities of Tony’s powers developing. It meant nothing to him in the long run. When he was with Tony, his life and world centered on Tony, and Steve saw the same in Tony’s eyes. Those eyes that were the color of the Caribbean Sea or the wine dark ocean or the dark of the Earth. He could never tell, and Thor had once told him that Tony’s eye color would settle one day – when his powers emerged. That didn’t seem right since Natasha’s eyes still frequently changed. When he quizzed Thor about it, the old vampire with the sky blue eyes only smiled and said powers develop and need time to mature. What would that mean to a woman who became shadow and mist?

Whether or not Natasha transformed into something more fantastical only passed as a trivial point in Steve’s life. Tony and his welfare had become Steve’s sole purpose. He understood the glamour drugged his mind, but he had the serum and it cleared the dulling effects easily enough. What was left was Steve’s devotion and gratitude, and love. Tony showed the same to Steve. When Steve walked in a room it was like the sun shone on his face for the first time. Tony brightened and rose red came to his cheeks regardless of the last time he’d eaten. Tony wasn’t supposed to be able to blush, but still it was there. They spent every spare minute together. Steve learned of Tony’s obsession with tinkering and inventing; while Tony spent hours listening to Steve’s war stories or modeling for Steve’s drawing. 

His life would have been so different if he’d never met Tony in that Blood Den, but then again, he wondered if he’d even still be alive. Steve glanced at Clint as they drove through the backroads toward the safe house. Clint had been his second for years at the V-Corps. They fit well together, and Steve appreciated Clint’s quick eye and even sharper wit. Steve had thought he would make a real difference in the ranks with Clint by his side. Together they ran a well-oiled machine. Had he ruined everything for Clint?

“You didn’t have to do that,” Steve started as he drove through the evening. “You didn’t have to come to my rescue.”

“Yeah, I did,” Clint said. “Nat would have killed me if I didn’t. She’s taken a special interest in Tony for some reason. She looks out for him.”

“Like a mother hen in some ways,” Steve said. Natasha kept her coven in line with a firm hand, but she was never unfair. “She cares a lot. She told me not to get too involved with Tony, you know.”

“Yeah,” Clint said as he straightened up in the passenger seat. While Steve had parsed through his thoughts on Tony and vampire mating, Clint dozed next to him. “I know.”

“I don’t get it. You two seem pretty close,” Steve said. He squeezed the steering wheel. They tensed in response to the flash of headlights from an approaching car. It continued on its way down the country road. 

“Well, we are. Too close.” Clint frowned and then eyed Steve. “You see, Steve, I wasn’t a free man when Natasha and I – when the glamour happened.”

“What do you mean? Not a free man?” Steve furrowed his brows as he glanced at Clint.

“I was married, had kids.” Clint fell silent and then sighed. “Shit. I haven’t talked about Laura and the kids in years.”

“Kids? Really?” Steve said, and his heart ratcheted up. “I don’t understand. What?” 

“I was in Russia, working undercover for the V-Corps, sent to get the infamous Black Widow vampire. Let’s just say that Natasha worked a different life back then. Talk about red in her ledger. Hers was bloody and she liked it. She didn’t have a coven. She ran free.” Clint stretched out as much as possible in the confined space. “I was tasked to bring her in. To kill her. I chose another route.”

“The glamour?” Steve said, and his stomach dropped. A nauseated feeling swarmed over him. 

“No, actually I cornered her, and I was about to take the shot, to kill her. She was weak, it was the middle of the day. Then I asked her a question,” Clint said. 

“What?”

“I asked her if she wanted to die. She said yes.” Clint looked down at his hands. “She had tears in her eyes. I didn’t know that they could cry, you know. I thought they were these bloodless, mindless creatures. That’s what they teach you. But she wasn’t – she was something wonderful and beautiful.”

“Enough to give up your family?” That sounded repugnant to Steve. He wanted to take it back, but he couldn’t.

“No.” Clint shook his head. “We didn’t mate then. I saved her. Brought her home. Well, not to my home. But to a safe place. I took care of her. And then-.” He shrugged. “Things happened. I’m not proud of it. I told Laura right away. We tried to work through it. She’s a good woman.”

Steve stared at the road. Admitting an addiction might be the first step to recovery, but what if that addiction also meant the difference between life and death. “Did you just stop seeing Natasha?” 

“No,” Clint said. “Laura tried to accept it. That we mated, and it was destined to happen. She tried. I don’t blame her for it. We were a happily married couple with kids. Then Natasha came into my life and – things changed.”

As Clint spoke, Steve went over the details of the story. Clint cornered Natasha. Cornered her. How? She faded into the shadows easily enough. She hopped between realms as she called it or as Tony said in passing once bent dimensions and stepped through them. 

“Did Natasha have her powers then?” Steve asked, trying to finally pin down Natasha’s story.

Clint bit at his lower lip and then said, “Let’s just say even that’s complicated with Nat.”

Had Natasha laid a trap for Clint – they’d called her the Black Widow vampire for a reason. Some part of Steve hated her in that moment as they drove through the night into the next day. 

They took turns driving, never stopping for more than fuel and a quick bite to eat. Keeping to the back roads added a good six hours to their drive. Steve steered clear of asking Clint about his situation again. He didn’t want to accidentally bring up the idea that Natasha had ensnared him. Maybe Clint realized it and didn’t want to face it. It wasn’t Steve’s business. But then again, he circled back to his own situation with Tony. 

Tony had been in his thirties when he was changed. He didn’t look like he was in his thirties. The transformation blessed him with youth and he looked in his twenties – the same age as Steve. They’d been together for six years. Tony hadn’t aged, neither had Steve – the serum gave him that boon. Tony told the story of his change to Steve one night as they lay together in the garden of the safe house listening to the chirping crickets as the summer died away. It was their first summer together. Steve thought he would miss the sun and the day, but the night held wonders he never appreciated until he spent them with Tony. They lay entangled on the lounge chair; Tony satiated from having drank his fill. Steve was pliant and lazy, almost drifting in a kind of subspace. He wouldn’t have had the audacity to ask how Tony got turned, the circumstances of it, otherwise.

“Ambushed by terrorists who were paid for by the guy I thought of as a father,” Tony said. He snickered but didn’t elaborate. Steve prodded him. “The terrorists wanted me to build them bombs. I nearly died but they had a vampire there. He turned me. I should have died, but he saved me. I couldn’t save him, though. The terrorists gave me to Yinsen, the vampire. I can’t remember much, but I know he apologized after.” Tony stroked his hand up and down Steve’s arm, raising the hairs as he did. 

“What did you drink, in captivity?” Steve asked.

Tony only shook his head. Steve left it at that, not pressing him, but he suspected that Tony drank from other prisoners. Natasha said once that new vampires are the most ravenous. He wondered if Tony could control his thirst as he could now, or if some of the other prisoners may have succumbed to Tony’s need. 

Tony’s need.

The glamour, now always part of Steve, focused his attention to Tony. Steve worried he’d lost his free will to Tony, but then again, Tony constantly fretted over it. Though, as Steve drove toward the safe house and mulled over the story Clint related to him, Steve weighed what he knew and what he believed about Tony. Trying on the doubts tightened his shoulders and strung his chest into fits. He loved Tony, they’d shared so many secrets and hopes. They even talked about a time in the future where mates were accepted. Where they could live out in the open. Natasha warned him _don’t fall for him – this isn’t love_. 

He blinked away the tears as they stopped for fuel and Clint took over the driving. Sleep eluded him, but the blur of the road brought him back to his earliest days. A smear of life before his life began with Tony. He’d lost so much – his whole life, his people, his Ma, Bucky, his other friends, and yet his life breathed new when the mating clicked into place. As they finished the last of their drive to the safe house, Steve gazed at the compound. The security was impeccable because Tony invented it. It would take a mole or a nuke to break into the place. Even with that knowledge, the tension rooted deep in Steve’s psyche. He rotated his shoulders as he directed Clint toward the underground parking. The house was above ground, a sprawling ranch style house situated on over a thousand acres of wooded and meadow area. Tony called it mid-century modern, but he also enhanced it so that the roof line looked like a forested landscape. Small trees and brush adorned the roof. 

Steve had access into the compound. The retinal scan and blood sample from a finger prick opened the secured gates. Clint drove the sedan to a parking spot in the small garage and, as Steve opened the car door, he heard the doors to the garage close. Previously, Steve called Tony on the burner phone Sam gave them to detail the car and their arrival time. The whole place, the woods, the meadows, everything was rigged to spot and defend. Clint jumped out of the car and smiled at Steve. They’d known each for years now, and Steve swore he never saw Clint in the safe house – though that was to be expected since it was Tony’s and not actually the coven’s place. Tony had once said he built it years before he was turned, as a haven to get away from the paparazzi and, as far as Steve knew, it stayed secure from the eyes of the outside world.

The elevator across from the parking spot rang and both Steve and Clint turned to it. JARVIS announced the arrival. “Captain Rogers, it is good to see you. Sir is on his way.”

Steve only waved a confirmation and Clint frowned at him. Explaining JARVIS was one of Tony’s joys and Steve wouldn’t take that away from him. Tony followed by Natasha entered the garage. As soon as Tony met Steve’s gaze, he lit up. If there was any moment of any day that Steve treasured it was this one. How could this not be love?

“I missed you!” Tony called and walked toward Steve, his arms open. 

“What are you doing awake? It’s the middle of the day,” Steve said, admonishing his charge but taking Tony into his arms at the same time. He noticed that Natasha and Clint shared a quick hug and kiss. He didn’t shorten his greeting, just held Tony close and let him listen to the beat of his heart.

“I missed this so much,” Tony said and put his hand on Steve’s chest. 

“We saw the news,” Natasha said and that effectively broke up their embrace.

“Christ, Steve, I was terrified until you called.” Tony grasped his hand. 

“It’s at a boiling point. They’re cleaning house. This can’t be good. This new procedure is going to go to hell on them,” Natasha said. “We have to make plans.”

“I thought you’d said for the coven to scatter,” Steve said. He looked down at the hand clasped in his own – cold, pale. Tony hadn’t eaten in a while. 

“Things changed when I saw they weren’t just going after the random vamp.” She started towards the elevator and they all fell in step behind her. “Random vamps that choose not to join a coven or have been kicked out are usually the first to go with these types of round ups. It ebbs and flows. They round a few up, do something hideous, and then things quiet down. It’s part of their PR to keep humans from getting antsy.” She shook her head. 

The V-Corps called it culling, and Steve knew it to be much more serious that Natasha let on, but he held his tongue.

As the elevator doors opened, Natasha said, “I knew it would be bad, because of the zombie effect.” She shrugged as the car started to lift. “Scattering usually means go to the coven safe houses. Hunt if you need to but keep a low profile. Keep away from mates. Just because it’s more dangerous. But now, they’re going after mates too. It’s not pretty.”

“Do they even know about the zombie effect?” Clint asked.

Steve hadn’t been privy to those machinations of the V-Corps. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Their plan wouldn’t be to let the zombies live.”

“Extermination,” Natasha said. “It’s an easy way to say they have to do it. You have to understand that some of the families of vamps are happy to have them still alive. They have their loved ones but they’re vampires. It’s okay with them. They don’t want to see their loved ones wiped out. That’s a small minority, but vocal enough that they have to do this subtly.” 

“Excuse me, but why not just use the Blight again?” Steve asked.

“Because they found out the Blight didn’t just kill vampires,” Natasha said as the elevator arrived on the main floor of the house. 

That was a bit of new knowledge that Steve hadn’t heard. As they walked into the wide open living space of the house with its vaulted beamed ceilings and tinted windows for ages along the back side, Steve searched around for the missing vampires. “Where are Bruce and Thor?”

“Thor’s out.” Natasha didn’t explain further.

“Bruce isn’t feeling well,” Tony said. “The stress doesn’t help him much.” Tony stroked his hand down Steve’s arm. Even with the tinted windows, Steve spotted the weakness in Tony’s motions, the way he leaned against Steve. 

“Well, let’s not have that happen to you,” Steve said. He squeezed Tony’s hand, said his ‘goodnights’ to Natasha and Clint and then headed toward the bedroom. Tony didn’t protest.

When the door clicked shut and Steve pulled the curtains to the windows, Tony said, “I worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. It took a while before we got to safety and I couldn’t call you,” Steve said and started to unzip his jacket. He tossed his shirt on the bed. 

Tony frowned at him and then crossed the room, his hands on Steve’s bare chest. “I was worried about you. Not about my next meal. You.”

Those eyes so deep in their emotion, dark and earthy, or light and crystalline blue, met Steve’s and every ounce of fear and doubt shamed Steve. The love was there for him to see. “Well, you might not have been, but I was.” He cupped his hand on Tony’s chilled face. The flesh felt like soapstone, a touch of porcelain with the softness of silk. He sat back onto to the bed, pulling Tony with him. “Now, drink. Drink your fill. Drink it all.”

He closed his eyes and the miracle of surrender overcame him.


	3. Chapter 3

For the better part of two days, Tony worried about Steve and what had become of him. The news reported a nationwide manhunt. Steve had been labeled criminally insane, dangerous, and a threat to other humans due to his unnatural attraction and protection of vampires. On CNN, Secretary Ross explained that they’d detected the vampire residue on the Captain America with new, Hammer Industry designed biometric devices. Ross went on to elaborate about the Captain’s wavering devotion to the safety of humans and that he regularly supported a softer, more tolerant policy when it came to vampires. The CNN reporter asked about the quality of the new detector and whether or not it could distinguish between the residue that a V-Corps member might encounter daily in their interactions with the vampire community and the residue that might be specific for a human-vampire mating.

Ross smiled, an expression laced with venom. “Of course, it does. The design is specific for the coagulate that vampires use after biting the mate. Biologically, there’s no other molecule like it in the animal kingdom.” He paused and looked directly at the camera. “Dead or alive.”

Tony had thought in that moment that Ross had no dramatic flair and couldn’t really hold his own in the light of the public eye. Yet, the fact that Justin Hammer happened to zero in on that one difference that might change everything seemed enlightened and he had to wonder where and when the hell they figured it out. 

It had been Bruce who supplied that information. Decades ago when he worked with Ross, his studies investigated the coagulant to use in emergency cases of hemorrhage. What a boon to doctors and nurses if they could harness it. “He pushed for it. Really wanted to harvest the glands, but it never worked then. You couldn’t preserve the functioning gland, and you had to have it functioning. Hammer must have been using vampires. There’s no other way. He had to harvest the coagulant to discover how to detect it.” Bruce scrubbed hands through his hair. 

“Just for a coagulant?” Tony had questioned. A Secretary of Human Security known for his wild ass ideas of a prison in the middle of the ocean and his regular support of vampires being jailed without a trial – well, it seemed out of character. “Why the coagulant?” Could it be that Ross wanted it to wage a better war? Like he said on the news report? The coagulant would be a great help for humans during war, more support on the battlefield, less deaths due to bleed out. The highest rate of mortality in the field during war was hemorrhage. It struck the wrong chord with Tony, though; people like Ross cared little for the pawns they put on the front lines. War wasn’t young men and women dying. It was a game and nothing more. He quizzed Bruce about it.

Bruce chewed at his lip and shook his head. His hands and temples were a shade of green that warned and terrified at the same time. “Back then, way back then when I was working with Ross and his daughter, he wanted to figure out the secret to the vampire immortality more than anything.”

“But you said he wanted to find a cure for the vampire ‘disease’.” Tony used air quotes to set disease apart. 

“Yeah, that was part of it, sure,” Bruce said but then he added, “He went after me when I changed. It was a complete disaster. I kind of crushed Harlem back then. Something was wrong with my change. They pretended it was the Harlem riot in ‘64. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t the Secretary back then of course. He was an up and coming political star.” 

“How the hell old is Ross?” Tony had asked but then he turned back to the point of the conversation. “So it wasn’t just the disease?”

Bruce curled in on himself as if the weight of shame settled on his shoulders. “I thought it was – you have to believe me. I worked on that because I thought it was the right thing to do. He made me believe, but the fact was we couldn’t figure it out and I thought it was safe. I convinced him to work on just the disease after that.” 

Tony snapped then because the whole damned situation. “What the hell do you mean? It wasn’t the coagulant? It wasn’t the disease. It was the immortality, wasn’t it? Why the hell was he after the immortality? Was he after it for himself? What-.”

“His daughter. She was ill. He thought it would save her,” Bruce said, and tears had formed in his eyes. He slumped even further into himself. “I tried. She tried. She was brilliant. A biochemist. Such a mind. Leaps and bounds over me. But she discovered something, something about the glands and she refused to tell her father. She knew he was a power-hungry asshole. She stood between him and his quest. She would rather die than reveal what she’d discovered.”

“And then?” Tony said, riveted by Bruce’s tale. “What happened then?”

“I used it on myself. I tried to save her. I tried to turn her. It only went sideways. She died – worse than it would have been if her illness had taken her.” As Tony listened to the story, Bruce had fallen into a stupor, and his gloom and self-abasement grew worse. Tony didn’t press Bruce for any more of the details, but the fact remained that Ross was seeking a way toward immortality more than the idea of controlling the vampire population. Or curing the disease.

As he awaited Steve’s arrival, Tony turned his focus toward getting the word to Natasha. Finding her was a near to impossible task. He went down to his workshop on the lower levels with its large array of computers. The one wall came alive when he entered, and holographic screens encased him as he stepped up to the platform. He asked JARVIS to search and find Natasha. Vampires had their own secret internet set up. They didn’t call it anything as ridiculous as the dark web or the blood web. They just named it for what it was. Freedom. He sent out a call, asking for her to get to his safehouse as soon as possible. If Bruce was right and Ross was actually after immortality and found a way to secure it, they were worse off than just zombie land. Ross wouldn’t only want to harvest the glands of vampires for his diabolical experiment but he would need to capture vampires and keep them alive in order to make new vampires to harvest the glands. It was sick and gross and Tony shook as he rotated the holographic search parameters for Natasha. 

Tony sent word to other covens, reaching out to all of the ones he knew. With his message to one of the Asian covens to Helen sent, he worked in an extra request for her expertise in this area. At one time she had been a respected scientist working on tissue regeneration. She’d been turned more than 30 years ago and rose in the ranks of her coven quickly when there was a purge during a Blight scare back in the 90s. She still dabbled in science and her own research when heading up a coven didn’t take all her free time. He’d wanted to meet her, but then she dropped off the radar. The human society shunned her when she attempted to do what no other vampire had been able to successfully do –integrate into human society to continue her work. They labeled her the Asian Doctor Frankenstein and her work was mocked and laughed at – though Tony had seen promise in her ideas. He should have connected with her earlier, but prejudice ran deep and as a human he hadn’t been enlightened back then at all. Now, he hoped she would reach out and respond to his inquiry.

With that completed, Tony had nothing to do but wait and find out if his mate was still alive. He flashed through the news updates only to find report on a woman who may have seen Captain America and ‘another guy’ stealing an old truck from a repair shop. It seemed an inconsequential detail at the time, but when Tony hacked into the city cameras to find that, yes, it was Steve, he cursed. He spent the next few hours cleaning the information of Steve’s whereabouts out of the city’s database. It took nearly nothing since there was no real security, not against his technology. After that it was a wait and see game. Word came that Natasha received his call and would answer it. Tony didn’t know whether to be happy or to be concerned.

Natasha arrived like the dark storm she was. JAVRIS announced her arrival right before security accepted her identification and she left the car she was driving in front of the house for Happy to deal with. Thor appeared shortly thereafter with a grave look in his eyes, and the rain brewed around him. Breaking the news to Natasha meant exposing the fact that Bruce kept important information from the coven for decades. There was reason they called her the Black Widow. Bruce kept his head bowed and offered to go into stasis for his actions or inactions. Natasha only rolled her eyes. 

“There’s more to be dealt with than your transgression, Bruce,” Natasha said. Her intensity filled the room with darkness – even with the large picture windows it filled the room like sudden storm clouds. “I need you to find out what’s happening with your human – as soon as possible.” She focused on Tony. “He probably knows more now or, if he doesn’t, we can glean what he knows from how they’ve gone after him.”

“So he’s your bait to figure this shit out?” Tony asked. He regretted inviting her into his house. This was his safe haven, a place out of time and space for his time with Steve. Having her here and the rest of the coven dirtied it. 

“We have to use what we have at hand. His information might be vital to whether you or I survive. Any of your coven. Don’t forget what your coven has given to you over the years, Tony. This is your first priority, not your mate.” Natasha depended on Thor, and when she did, she had a tendency to remain physically close to him. He stood right next to her now – in that shadowy spot where she tended to fold space at a moment’s notice and disappear. He wondered if she kept him there as a kind of scout – looking at other places to find out what’s happening where. “Thor, I might need you to talk with the others.”

“Surely.” Thor nodded but never moved.

“If he’s going after the glands for immortality, then the zombie problem isn’t secondary to him. He’s probably planning on killing those he harvests from-.” Natasha stopped and cringed. “Have any of the other covens reported missing vampires. He needs to keep vampires around for a source of the glands.”

“I’d like to know if the elixir they’re extracting is permanent or if they have to keep drinking in the elixir,” Tony remarked. It was something he believed that Cho and her coven would study and could find the answer to if they could resource it out to her. 

“If it’s not permanent, then we have a bigger problem,” Natasha said. “A much bigger problem.” 

Steve arrived shortly after they made their plans to network over the globe to all the covens, not just the ones in the United States. Ross had a ton of influence throughout most of the Western world and some pull in the East as well. They needed to know who would support the United States’ movement and who would not. A new division of nations on how to deal with vampires grew as the conservative United States led the way towards stricter and stronger controls on the vampire community. With this new development, the allure of immortality would shift the tide against vampires. There would be no safe harbor. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve whispered as Tony nestled against Steve’s chest and listened to his heart, the steady thrumming a lullaby to him. 

Tony needed to get up, force himself to move. Steve needed to be properly fed or his strength would fail him. While the serum kept up for the most part with Tony’s feeding, even Steve needed to balance out his donations with his intake. After he drank his full, Tony found himself in a stupor. The luxury of his flesh feeling whole and natural overcame all sensible thought. As Tony tried to follow the thread of Steve’s conversation, his mind staggered like a drunk. “Hmm?”

“Everything Natasha talked about. The whole thing with the vampires and Ross. We’ll figure it out.” He clasped Tony tighter to him. “I know how Nat feels about the whole mating thing, that it shouldn’t be anything other than a convenience. But she’s worried about it too. You can tell. She wouldn’t have told vamps to stay away from their mates if she didn’t care.” 

Maybe Steve was trying to convince himself of something. Tony reached up and touched the marks on Steve’s neck. Tony drank from the most vulnerable place, the sweetest place this time during their mating. He wanted to call it lovemaking, but that voice in his head that drew him to the coven and the rules stopped him. “She cares about the coven. I don’t know if she cares all that much about her human. What does Clint say?”

Steve grimaced as Tony petted his wound. “Clint gave up a lot, his life, his family for her. I don’t think he wants to consider that she doesn’t love him.”

A family? Clint? That was the first Tony had ever heard of that - and he’d known Clint for the entire time he’d been part of Natasha’s coven. He’d never spent any time getting to know Clint; it was frowned upon in all vampire conclaves to spend any time with another’s mate. Lord, he thought he only saw Thor’s mate a half dozen times. But mates and vampires and love weren’t really the issue at hand.

“It’s not about that,” Tony said. “It’s the gland thing. If Ross is really intent on taking vampire glands to milk them for some special elixir we’re in more than a heap of trouble.” He got up on one elbow and looked down at Steve who looked especially pale. “If Nat is right then they’ll use mates as bait. Kidnap as many of the mates as possible and lure the vampires in. It wouldn’t be too hard.”

“You think Nat’s always been preparing for the day when mates become a liability to the vampire conclaves?” Steve asked.

“It could be,” Tony replied. “She doesn’t trust easily.”

Steve screwed up his face and Tony wondered whether or not the remark about Clint as Natasha’s mate might have something to do with his pensive mood. Whatever the deal with Clint and Natasha, Tony didn’t want it to influence his relationship with Steve. He’d already broken one of the coven’s unspoken rules by falling in love with his mate. Digging into Natasha’s business would get him thrown out of the coven or, worse, sent to stasis like Loki. Inwardly, a shiver ran through him. He never wanted that to happen to him. 

“We’re safe here,” Steve said as more of a question than a statement.

“All the best security. No one can get in. I have to allow it. JARVIS is not the only defense we have,” Tony said. “The whole place would have to be undermined in order for anyone to get in and crack the defenses. We’re very safe. The tech that Ross has is decades behind this, I can tell you that.”

“For how long are we safe?” Steve muttered. He sat up and Tony could tell by the way he rapidly blinked his eyes that he was in the midst of a dizzy spell brought on by lightheadedness. Even with the serum, Steve needed an extra boost now and then to deal with the blood loss. A lot of vampires supplemented their mates’ diets with raw meats, iron, and omega 3 fatty acids in order to ensure a strong hemoglobin count and immune system.

“You need more iron,” Tony said. “I’m going to go and get you some dinner.”

Steve pushed his fingers into his eyes and said, “Can we just not right now?”

“Steve, you really need it. You look like Casper the Ghost,” Tony said and noted the wan color to the Captain’s skin. “You need to get some meat in you and I have to go a few more days with just pigs’ blood.” Some vampires in between feeding from their mates would visit Blood Dens or settle for animal blood. Tony had been drinking an excessive amount lately. Most of the time it was a sip here and there, but lately he’d been drinking his fill and then some. That wasn’t very healthy for Steve. He needed to be more considerate of his mate. With the serum, Steve healed and produced more blood quicker than normal humans, but Tony’s thirst had been insatiable lately. Thor had commented on it only a week ago.

“You, my friend, must find a way to relieve your mate,” Thor had said. “You are depending wholly upon his blood for any sustenance. He will not be healthy, and you will end up sickened if that happens.”

“I know. I’ve been giving him the iron pills,” Tony replied. “And lots of red meat.”

“It is a time of growth for you. You are progressing along the vampire maturation path much more quickly than any other vampire I have known in all the ages of my life, and there have been many.” Thor studied him with a critical eye. “Do not be so sure of yourself and your ability to stop from going too far with your human. You may very well drain him by pure accident in your current state.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Steve is fine.” But Tony knew that it had been a careless disregard for the advice of his elders. Many said that Thor was one of the first generation of vampires, made during the Middle Ages during the plague when it hit Europe. There had been legends that the vampire disease spread at the same time as the bubonic plague and that many a reanimated corpse was burned at the stake during the scare. The first generation went to ground and became more myth than anything else until the earliest part of the last century changed all of that and vampires came into the metaphorical light. He conceded the point. “I’ll look after him. Don’t worry.”

“Best that you do. Though we depend on our mates as our daylight caretakers, we must also care for them and ensure they stay healthy and willing to pair with us.”

“At least take some iron pills,” Tony said now as he reached out to the drawer of the night table to pull out the package he always kept there for Steve. “Take four. I know the package says one, but you metabolize faster. So take more.”

He shoved them in Steve’s hand and went to get water from the ensuite bathroom. He checked the water as it flowed from the tap for the temperature. Steve never liked very cold water. As Tony looked up and checked his own reflection – because vampires did reflect in mirrors regardless of what popular culture said– he noted the full blush of his skin tones. He seemed to glow as if there was an everlasting light embedded in his chest. It bowed his head. He’d gone too far. Drank too much again. 

When he walked out of the bathroom with the glass in hand, Tony said, “I think we need to cool it a bit. I’m drinking too much.”

“I think you need to come here and make love to me,” Steve said and opened his arms. He lifted his chin to indicate the water. “I dry swallowed them. Come on, I need you.”

“You don’t. We just did, and I drank my fill,” Tony said and placed the glass to the side. “You should drink the water too. You’re going to get dehydrated.” Like a moth to the flame, Tony sidled onto the bed. His whole being longed to be in Steve’s arms, encompassed by them. Steve read his thoughts and gathered Tony in his arms.

“We get so little time to be together.” Steve nuzzled into Tony’s hair, kissing the crown of his head. “I know that vampire covens don’t support the idea of love with Mated Pairs. I get that. I understand why.” He shuddered around Tony. “But when everything happened with Ross and Pierce, all I could think of was you. What if they got to you, what would I do? I couldn’t stand to think of you gone or mutilated.”

“Steve,” Tony murmured but it was a half-hearted attempt. The heat of Steve’s body against his stone cold skin enveloped him and lulled him into compliancy. “Not fair. You know I can never say no to you.” Tony snuggled closer soaking in the warmth and the throb of life around him. He couldn’t speak for other vampires, but he loved the touch of life, was dependent on it. He brushed his face against Steve’s chest, listening to the thrum of his heart and he knew he couldn’t stop, that he needed it more than the preternatural awareness that enlightened and startled him every damned day. 

He slid up to meet Steve’s gaze. “I shouldn’t do this. You give too much.” He ached when he thought of how much Steve offered without asking for anything in return. “Why? Why do you do it?” Was it some kind of enthrallment? He wanted to believe that it was love and not a spell cast unknowingly by him on Steve.

Steve cradled his face in his hands. “Tell me that you don’t love me, Tony. Tell me that you only look at me as your next meal. Tell me you think of me only as your caretaker.”

“You know I don’t,” Tony said, and he felt the quiver of tears – vampire tears bloody and red- streak his cheeks. Steve leaned down and lightly kissed them away.

“Then make love to me, Tony. Because I know – even though you try and deny it every day – I know you love me.”

How could Steve love someone with a stone heart? How could he long and crave someone with an undead soul. How could Tony damn him? Answers never came but he grabbed Steve and kissed him, hard and long and fiercely. He poured his strength and fear and love into the kiss, and Steve rewarded him by returning it with such power that Tony would never have guessed he’d only just fed him. It urged Tony into a lusty desire without inhibitions. All his concerns dropped away and he trailed tiny nibbles and bites along Steve’s neck and then his chest. Steve groaned in response as he first went frozen with the paralytic that Tony released and then relaxed when Tony suckled at his flank, sending the antidote through Steve’s circulatory system. 

Steve arched into his kiss, his bite. Tony looked up and saw the bliss of love and something more over Steve’s face. The blush of life drowned out the paleness of his skin and he quaked under Tony’s hands, as if Steve’s strength failed him and he succumbed to Tony’s unnatural strength. Crawling up to meet Steve’s gaze, Tony searched his sparkling blue eyes like the days of sun and clear skies he still remembered, though they faded with each passing year. He licked away the droplets of blood. “Of course, I love you. I love you like I love the dawn. I would risk everything for you. Don’t you know that, Steve? Don’t you get it?”

Steve always kissed with his hands holding and cupping Tony’s face as if his mouth couldn’t taste enough, as if his body needed to feel everything, every sensation all at once. He touched Tony then, wiped away the blood tears and said, “I would let you drain every last drop of blood from me, if it meant I saved you. Don’t you get it?”

They were doomed.

Tony didn’t say it. Instead he settled against Steve and they luxuriated in long lasting kisses as Steve grew hard against Tony’s leg, and the want and desire to taste him, and be part of him, manifested in Tony. Steve thrust against his leg. Tony disengaged from their kiss as his fangs grew and he felt the need to taste and bite overcome him. Steve arched his neck, exposing his pulse point where Tony had last bitten him, the wound still prominent. He shouldn’t indulge but the look of pure bliss in Steve’s face, the way his body coiled to Tony’s needs, sent him over the edge of doubt, falling into the chasm of surrender. 

Tony bit down, breaking open the wound and the flood of salt and iron filled his mouth. His eyes shuttered closed and his body rejoiced. He felt Steve go rigid against him, and then again, he went slack and hungry for Tony as the seconds passed. Tony swallowed the thick and delicious life fluid as he pulled back to see Steve concentrating on him. His pupils wide and the blue of his eyes nearly non-existent. Steve didn’t need to say a thing, nothing at all. Tony pushed him to lay flat on his back and then fully and completely encompassed Steve’s erection. They never needed to prepare or to use lube – not when Tony took in Steve. It wasn’t necessary. Tony transformed, his body answered the needs of his mate and his body accepted Steve. It was the way of mating and pairing with a human. The vampire’s biology was no longer defined by science. Tony felt his body give way, felt his own cock stiffen and throb as if a beating heart drove it. The dim lights around them sparkled and glittered in Tony’s vision. His body acted and reacted and Steve cried out with need.

“I need, I need to move,” Steve sobbed as Tony’s body enveloped him. 

“Fuck me,” Tony said and then corrected himself. “Make love to me. Make love, my heart of hearts, my sun in the night. Make love.”

Steve grasped Tony’s shoulders and brought him down for another kiss, disregarding his fangs, letting the fangs scrape against his lips, his tongue. It sent shivers of excitement and need through Tony. He lifted off of Steve slightly and then sat back again, breaking the kiss, the taste of blood. Steve grappled for him, but Tony stopped him, forcing his hands away, gripping his wrists and keeping them hostage against his sides. 

Tony slide up and teased Steve as he waited and then slammed back down again. Steve moaned and tried to match the motion, but Tony captured him, sat on top of him, not letting him move. Their strength and power matched especially while Steve recovered from Tony’s previous feeding. 

“Let me make love to you,” Steve demanded. “You just asked me to-.”

“I changed my mind, sunshine. I’m going to make love to you.” Tony leaned down and licked at Steve’s wound, releasing a tiny bit of the paralytic. Steve groaned as he felt it work through his body. “Now I have a captive audience. Now, I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

He rocked on Steve’s hard cock. The sensation sent shivers of extra want through him. Steve managed a whimper as he lay unmoving beneath Tony. They’d played around with the paralytic before, and Tony knew that Steve loved it, that he longed for Tony to take him and show him the power of their pairing. “I’d do anything for you, my sun. Anything at all.” Tony lifted his hips and slammed down again as a dribble of drool bubbled out of Steve’s mouth. Steve’s eyes were fully open and Tony bent down to kiss him. “Gonna give you the antidote now.”

A little nah gurgled from Steve. 

“You like it when you can’t move, when I can do whatever I want to you. You give yourself over to me so completely, my sweet heart. I can’t believe I deserve you,” Tony said and licked at the wound on his throat again, releasing him from the frozen state. 

Steve gasped out a cry. “Why? I just wanted to see you, to feel you.”

“I want to hear you, I want to love you,” Tony said and let Steve flip him over. In no time at all, Steve had Tony on his back, knees over Steve’s shoulders and rammed into him – battering like a storm against the shore. Never relenting. Never pausing. Never stopping. Sweat dripped from his forehead and down his temples. He pushed in all the way and speared Tony. He felt fuller, tighter than ever and he growled out his approval as his feeding gland ached anew. 

Steve didn’t rush it. He only pounded harder and shoved further and deeper. Tony rode toward the inevitable, the need to feed, the insatiable appetite for life in his soul – if he had one at all. With every push, every thrust, the deprivation inside expanded until he knew only want, until he understood nothing but the primal urge to feed, until Steve shuddered and stilled and Tony sat up in a blur of motion and bit down on the other side of his throat – gnashing his fangs into the flesh as a gush of blood spurted into his mouth. Steve hung within his orgasm – paralyzed again as Tony released the toxin. Tony’s whole body cycled in his climax as he drank and the bright lights of the sun burst through him and his nerves sang back with renewed energy. His body vibrated with life and death and what was in between the two states. Steve managed a slight moan as the toxin kept him in a perpetual state of orgasm. Tony clasped him hard, his own body refreshed and blushed with life again. The absolution of blood raced through him, washing away his death and bringing him back to life. He let go and screamed out his final climax. 

It took minutes for him to come down from the ecstasy that filled him. Steve remained in a moment of expectation and thrill, though. Tony moved off his cock, and then laid him down and watched him. His eyes rolled back, but slightly lidded. His mouth open in a silent cry of bliss, his cock rigid and straight, the slit open wide, aching for release. With a brush of his nail against it, Tony smiled and bent over it. He flicked it with his tongue and then with the slightest touch of his teeth to cause a small yet painful slice, released the cure into his blood stream. Steve jerked in final conclusion of his climax and Tony’s mouth filled with semen. Steve cried out and then wept as his orgasm rode over him, demolishing him.

Tony sucked down the last of his come and then sat up. Gooseflesh marred Steve’s skin and he shivered against the cold. Tony gathered him into his arms and then caught the edge of the blanket at the foot of the bed and covered them. “Shush.”

“Cold.”

“I know,” Tony said. “You’re probably going into shock. You need more blood. I drank too much.”

“I’m okay,” Steve said and then added, “Worth it.”

“You are a dangerous man,” Tony said and reached over the side table. He hit a switch as he spoke. “JARVIS, please send up a double order of steak rare, spinach salad, and two bottles of juice. Also a bottle of water and power drink.”

“It will be delivered momentarily, sir.”

Tony wrapped the blanket around them, pulling Steve close. At least Tony had body heat to share – though it was technically taken from Steve. Tony kissed him and whispered, “Stay with me, Steve. Stay with me.” Though his heart may be like stone, it constricted and the pressure in Tony’s chest stifled the afterglow of feeding. The idea that he may have harmed Steve, even in the stupor of orgasm, tormented Tony. The guilt tided over him as he continued his mantra. “Please, Steve, stay awake. Stay awake.” 

“Trying, Tony, trying,” Steve mumbled, though he curled against Tony and closed his eyes. 

Would he have to call JARVIS to get Natasha involved? He cursed his lack of restraint, but then a knock on the master suite door alerted him of the arrival of the food and drink. “Come on, Steve. You need to sit up.” 

“I need to sleep,” Steve grumbled but followed Tony’s prodding. As he sat up with Tony fluffing the pillows and propping cushions around him, Steve rubbed at his eyes and smiled. “I love you.”

Now he was just dopey with it. Tony rolled his eyes. “Stop being adorable.” Tony jumped out of bed, pulled on a bathrobe – his father’s old one – and headed to the door. 

Standing there with a look of disgust in her eyes, Natasha greeted him. “I take it you overfed.” She held the tray in her hands. “We don’t need a dead Captain America on our hands, you know.”

“Where’s Happy?” Tony peered around the door to sight his friend. 

“Don’t worry. He’s downstairs making more food for the super soldier.” Natasha went around Tony and entered the suite. She glanced around the clean lines of the design – it was all white cushions and tinted windows to the wooded areas outside. The pendulum lights hung in a cluster in the middle of the room like chrome pipes from an old 50s Chevy. “Strange, but not entirely horrible.” She brought the tray over to Steve. As she set it up she ordered, “Start eating.”

“The meat is raw,” Steve said and grimaced at it.

“Yes, it is. I ordered JARVIS to prepare it that way,” Natasha said. “Now, eat as I set this up.” She picked up a blood bag on the tray with an intravenous line.

“You’re not giving my mate pig’s blood. You’ll kill him!” Tony said.

“This is artificial human blood,” Natasha replied as she worked to set up the i.v. line. “Helen Cho – you know the head of the Asian coven that you contacted without telling me – she formulated it. I only have a few experimental batches for emergencies.” She threaded the needle into Steve’s vein on his hand much to his protests. She ignored him completely. “Doesn’t work as a good substitute for human blood for us, but it works – well, kind of works – for situations like these. She’s still perfecting it.” Natasha rigged the bag up to the headboard. She glared at them. Steve with the blankets tucked around him and the tray on his lap of raw meat and Tony in his father’s robe, and she shook her head. “Get some rest. Then we must have a discussion on our next steps. I want all the information you can supply me, Rogers. All of it.”

She started out of the room, but Steve stopped her. “You know, Natasha, you can trust me.”

“Maybe.”

“Tony’s important to me,” Steve added. “I love him.” 

Tony turned away and cringed. Natasha studied Steve. Tony watched her and glimpsed a sadness in her expression. “That’s exactly why I can’t trust you. But you could help the coven, Captain, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I will try, and you can trust me.”

She only raised a brow at him and then left.

Tony waited until the door clicked shut and then went to Steve. He kneed onto the bed. “You shouldn’t have said you loved me.”

“I think that’s obvious,” Steve said and laid his head back. It was also obvious how weak and dizzy he was. He even looked a little green around his jaw line. 

Tony shrugged away Natasha’s disapproval. Nothing to be done about it now, anyway. The truth was the truth. He opened the power drink. “At least drink this while the synthetic blood does its thing.”

Steve took the bottle with shaky hands, but Tony decided against letting him have it. Instead, he brought the bottle to Steve’s lips. “Drink.” After he’d managed to get down about half of the bottle, Tony asked him to lift his chin. He bent down to examine each wound and then licked them, specifically allowing the coagulant to cover each injury.

“How does it work?” Steve muttered as he closed his eyes. “You know, the toxin, the antidote. Even the coagulant. How does it work?”

“I don’t know exactly. I think it has a lot to do with the state of my mind at the moment. If I think coagulant, that’s what my feeding gland excretes, I suppose.” Tony mused about it before but never gave it a great amount of thought. Biochemistry mixed with the supernatural wasn’t his cup of blood. The only thing his undead body produced came from the feeding gland. “It’s weird, I suppose.”

Steve chuckled and closed his eyes as he sat with the tray over his lap and his lax hand on the power drink. “Certainly is weird. It’s strange that no scientist can actually figure it out. That all these years since it first appeared in the Middle Ages, people still don’t understand it.”

“Well, people still don’t understand the space-time continuum or gravity or universal constants. But they exist.”

Steve opened his eyes and stretched out his hand. “Come sit with me. Rest.”

Tony didn’t refuse; he didn’t fight Steve. He sat with him and had JARVIS send up a new plate of rare steak. Steve ate it, though not happily. He dozed during the afternoon and Tony with him. For once, it felt like they were just a couple, not illegal, nothing strange or peculiar about them. The idea that Steve loved him and that he loved Steve, regardless of the consequences in the coven, transformed Tony. As he went into his stasis, Tony reminded Steve to sleep as well. 

When Tony rose from his rest, Steve wasn’t at his side in bed anymore. After a quick shower, Tony queried JARVIS on Steve’s whereabouts. 

“Sir, Captain Rogers is in the kitchen discussing the situation regarding the Secretary of Human Security.”

“With Natasha?”

“Yes, sir. Thor and Doctor Banner are also present.”

“Damn,” Tony said and dried quickly. He knew that as a younger vampire he required more rest, but Natasha should know better regarding Steve’s health. He dressed and headed to the kitchen. He passed the Security Center. It was in the east wing of the house. Happy sat in the center with Clint hanging to the side of the room. The room harbored some of Tony’s most extensive and creative technological advancements. He worked hard to make the safe house a haven of security measures and the center reflected that fact. Surrounding Happy’s console, multiple holographic screens could be called up and manipulated. Sensors from visual to audio to tactical fed into the console and were constantly analyzed by JARVIS. Tony stopped only to greet Happy and to check on the status of his sanctuary. How safe it still was. 

“It’s hot out there, boss. I’m keeping an eye out, though,” Happy reported.

Clint, with arms crossed, frowned and said, “Lots of chatter. Media reports are linking Steve up with probable vampires. You’re one of them. They’ve been hounding Pepper Potts and your friend in the Air Force.”

“Rhodey?” Tony said and hissed. He hated to impose on his friends. It was bad enough the press constantly bothered Pepper, but now they were making her life hell. He tried not to imagine what could possibly be happening with Rhodey – a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. Tony had done his best to distance himself, at least to the public, from Rhodey after he was changed. They’d stayed in touch regularly, but they kept it unofficial and quiet. If any of their meetings ended up outing Rhodey, Tony would never forgive himself.

The beat of tension ran through him, echoing in his stone heart and in his petrified lungs. “Shit, this isn’t good.”

“We can keep monitoring but I’m not sure we can do much more,” Clint said. 

“Let me check,” Tony said and stepped further into the room. He gently pushed Happy out of his seat and sat down to fly through the codes and streams displayed overhead on the screens. He easily accessed JARVIS and sent through a new command to evaluate the situation, clean the web of any references to Pepper and Rhodey when it came to Tony, and then sent an alert for further actions by the DHS. “I think that should do it.”

“You want us to keep an eye still?” Clint asked.

Happy nodded. “We have a global search as well for anything out of place that might lead to covens being discovered in their safe houses.”

“Good idea,” Tony said. He considered both of them. Human and willing. Happy wasn’t even mated to anyone, he was just a loyal employee and friend of Tony’s. Clint – Clint was another story, one that Tony still didn’t understand not after all these years, but then again Tony still didn’t get Natasha either. He hoped he could trust them both. “Please. Keep at it.” He pointed to Clint. “Happy, help him out. Natasha needs the help and Clint’s her go to man. You got it?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Happy said and smiled as Tony exited the Security Center. 

He should have gone directly to the kitchen to search out Steve and find out what the hell was going on, but instead he slipped into his study. It was a room in the expansive house he rarely used because he preferred his laboratory and workshop. This place reminded him of his father with its tall bookcases and lines of books. Sure, he loved books, but this room usually meant that he needed solitude, and something was wrong. Within its walls contained all of his father’s notes and secret government projects. Of course, his father and mother died long before he was transformed. Yet, he knew his father might have had his hands in something as vital and intriguing as the idea of immortality.

“Lights.” 

JARVIS answered him by turning on the amber lamps ensconced along the walls. It truly looked like a library out of the last century and never really fit into the rest of the house. He still couldn’t to this day figure out what the hell he was thinking when he designed the place. Years ago. Another lifetime.

Tony set about digging through the old safe with all of his father’s papers and notebooks. He knew his father obsessed over things from the A-bomb to finding Captain America. Yet, he never expected to find much on vampires and their biochemistry. The little he’d found right after he’d became a vampire turned out to not be very enlightening and somewhat prejudicial. It hurt to look at – maybe he had been hoping for some kind of acceptance through the yellowed pages. What he’d found discouraged him and he locked all the papers away.

As Tony paged through the volumes of data because his father – though incredibly advanced for his time – was old school and always wrote a notebook for his thoughts and experiments, Tony found annotations about the super soldier serum as well as experiments to recreate it. Additional notebooks centered around vampire physiology. Most of it made no sense at all. His father was no biologist.

As he flicked through the pages, Tony fell into a chair and cross referenced the experiments, the investigation with other volumes of his dad’s work. It seemed nonsensical and repetitive. Human perfection – Howard had scrawled that word over and again in the diaries. Did Howard actually think that vampires were the perfection of humans? That couldn’t be right, but then Tony found references to the serum. 

“How was he putting this together?” Tony muttered and flipped through another volume. “It has to be here. Why he thought it.” His father had been a contemporary of Ross. They must have discussed the possibilities of the serum as well as vampirism. How they related or didn’t relate. Why didn’t his father write it down? He fucking wrote everything else down. “Son of a bitch.”

“What’s that?” 

Tony startled and jerked around to find Steve standing at the entrance to the study. 

“I thought you hated this room.”

“I did. I mean, I do. I just wanted to find out if my father had anything to do with this search for immortality.” Tony placed the current volume he had clutched in his hands on the desk.

Steve stepped over to desk and surveyed the piles of notebooks. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yes, I have.” Tony shrugged and picked grains of sleep out of his eyes. “I didn’t find anything that made any sense. But I’m sure he had a hand in it. My father knew Ross. They worked together at V-Corps for years. Howard was a god damned ass when it came to vampires. Ross and Howard worked together on this, I know it.” He shook his head. “There has to be something.”

“Bruce seems to know a lot about it,” Steve remarked as he turned over a page in a notebook.

“Yeah, maybe he can make heads or tails of it. I know he worked on it with Ross,” Tony said. “You might be onto something.”

“Maybe,” Steve said. He yawned and placed a hand on his forehead. “I’m tired. I think I need to sit for a while.” 

That drew Tony away from his studies. He jumped up and rounded the desk to place his hand on Steve’s cheek. “You’re colder than I am. You should have stayed in bed. Why are you up?” This was all Tony’s fault. Natasha was right; he’d overfed – again. Steve swayed on his feet as Tony grasped his arm. “Shit, we need to get you back to the bedroom.”

“I need to get back to the discussion on strategy,” Steve said and placed a hand over his eyes. “’m just a little lightheaded. Have a headache, too.”

“Come on,” Tony said because, shit, he wasn’t having any of this – he just admitted he loved Steve – full out. Sure, they’d played around with the terms and ideas over the past six years – who wouldn’t in that time? But this felt different. This felt like commitment. His soul entangled with Steve’s. Sown together forever. “We can talk strategy later. We have time. We’re safe here.” He ushered Steve out of the study, only peering back once at the pile of notebooks on his desk. He had time. There would be tons of time. He practically dragged Steve back to the bedroom. Thanks to his supernatural strength, the super soldier couldn’t escape his prodding. He went more willingly as he staggered and stumbled into the bedroom. Tony called for JARVIS to alert Natasha.

In seconds both Natasha and Thor were at the door to the master bedroom suite. Tony steered Steve back into the bed and Natasha hooked up another bag of the synthetic blood. She scowled at Tony but something soft and forgiving crossed her face when she gazed at Steve and then back at him again. “I understand where you’re coming from. Don’t mistake me. But this is dangerous. You have to know that. It will only cause you heartache and pain when he’s gone.”

Tony noticed Thor – a vampire eons old – standing quietly by the door. He never said a word. Tony shook his head. “We don’t know how long he’ll live. It could be longer than you think. Much longer considering the serum.”

“It’s not how long he’ll live I’m worried about.” Natasha finished setting up the intravenous line. Steve had already fallen into a deep slumber. “All humans, no matter how loving they are, will come to resent you. It’s just what happens, Tony. Either they resent you because you haven’t aged and they have or they resent having to act like your caretaker all the time. Or in his case, maybe he resents you because you stole the life he should have had – maybe gotten married, had a family. None of which you can do with him in the current political climate. Holding onto him like you are – it just means that he suffers and resents you in the end.”

“We all have human mates,” Tony said. Even to his ears it sounded like a weak argument.

“And we are more careful with how we handle them,” Natasha said. “Listen, Tony, I don’t want you to be hurt. And I surely don’t want the coven to be harmed because he finds he needs to side with his own kind. It happens all the time. New vampires are always blindsided.”

“He’s not like that,” Tony said. He crossed his arms, closing her off, shutting down the conversation. “You don’t know him like I do.”

Natasha bit back her words by chewing her bottom lip. She relented. “Do as you want but know this: if he shows even an inkling of betraying us for his own kind-.”

“Why aren’t you worried about Jane or better yet, Clint. Clint gave up his family for you,” Tony snapped. He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but the flood couldn’t be dammed. “I didn’t mean-.”

Natasha stopped him. “Yes, you did. There are things you don’t understand about an older, more mature vampire. One that has come into power. It changes you. It changes how you interact and pair and mate. It changes everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said and glanced at Thor, who looked pensive. “Why the hell do you keep so much secret? Why don’t you explain things to me? Why?”

“Because, young Stark, you hold onto your human world,” Thor said. He gestured to the bedroom, the mansion at large. “You hold on and keep your human life.”

“Hell, where would you all be if I didn’t? My fortune supplies this place and the coven. Without Pepper, we’d have nothing,” Tony spat back. 

“Would we?” Natasha asked and then strolled out of the room not allowing him to quiz her on her meaning. 

Anger boiled over and he leapt to go after her, but Thor blocked his way. “Young Stark, leave her. She is your liege and you should respect her. You try her patience.”

“I don’t know how she got to be in charge, but it’s a bunch of crap. I’m not going to be told I can’t be loyal and faithful and in _love_ with my mate. And I especially am not going to stand for her implicating Steve in betraying us. He would never do such a thing. Ever. For Christ’s sakes, he’s Captain America!” 

Thor remained calm, almost passive, as he listened to Tony. “Perhaps there is somewhere we could talk? Your mate needs his rest.”

Tony drifted over to the bedside to watch Steve sleep. He looked young, innocent, almost at peace with life. The wounds on his neck puckered and scabbed. Over the next day the serum would work its magic and they would vanish. He reached out and touched the pulse point on Steve’s throat. Life. Something that he left behind. Did he miss it? Was immortality and the vampire curse worth it? Being with Steve made it worth it. Natasha had it right that his undead life centered on Steve – not on the coven, not on the many conclaves all over the world, not on the current political state of affairs. On Steve. Steve saved him from a long, undead life of loss. 

Ashamed, he looked at Thor. “I don’t know what she wants from me.”

“Come,” Thor said and gestured for him to follow. “Let us talk.”

With a touch to Steve’s lips and the lightest kiss, Tony left his mate’s side to go with Thor. He didn’t direct the older vampire. They just happened to end up at the wide expansive balcony that looked out on the wooded area behind the house. The balcony was sleek in design and bright white. It glimmered in purples and pinks with his ethereal vision at night. 

“I can’t stop loving him. That is not going to happen,” Tony said. Today things had changed for Tony. Something stirred inside of him, something awoke. Maybe for the first time he admitted to himself that Steve was something more than a mate. He was a love – a once in a lifetime (undead) kind of love. 

“I won’t suggest that, Young One.” Thor surveyed the dark forest. His eyes looked feral, wild, almost crazy with need. “I have gone for many years without a human mate, many times over. I know how it feels to lose one and to gain one.”

“So, you think I’ll just learn my lesson and get over it.” The razor edge in his tone cut the air. 

“No, you never get over the first love of a mate, especially not your first mate.” As Thor spoke, Tony got the impression he was speaking from personal experience, and who could that have been all those ages ago? “Especially if it means you are coming into your power.”

Tony scoffed. The mystical powers that vampires acquired took years, even decades, to manifest. How it happened, what triggered it, Tony still didn’t know. Natasha and Thor stayed mum about it, and from Tony’s research there was little written on the subject. As a young vampire, it would take more than a few bites of the best blood around to transform him and have his powers appear so early. “I’m too young for powers. Plus, most vampires don’t survive long enough to get any powers at all.” Tony didn’t feel any different, unless remorse for drinking so much counted. 

“Did you mean to drink so much from your mate?” Thor asked. His face in profile looked like a carved statue from the smoothest marble. 

“No, of course not,” Tony said. “I even said no the last time. He insisted.” Tony stopped. Blaming what he’d done on Steve would get him nowhere but hell. 

“He feels something then. Mates do, though they don’t know why or how,” Thor said. He smiled, and it broke the marble like cast to his skin. “Call it intuition. That special link that pairs you with him, it brings certain things to the surface for the mate as well.”

“He hasn’t said anything. He hasn’t said anything at all.” Tony went over their conversations and nothing popped up. It had all been about love and getting through the current mess.

“Some don’t. Your mate is a stoic one.” Thor turned his gaze to Tony. “Your powers may develop yet, Young One. It may not be powers, but you may be turning more vicious as a vampire, more needy. It could doom your relationship and your mate. Or the powers are settling in your preternatural bones. Once that mystic seed is planted it cannot be stopped. It will grow.”

“Does that mean I’ll drink Steve dry?” Because if that was the case, Tony needed to leave – right now. He wouldn’t put Steve in any further danger. 

“Only if you become the first, where you want more and more and are never satisfied. All people and vampires alike have these tendencies, but only the depraved ever act on it.” Thor studied him. “You are not depraved. You are growing and maturing.”

“You treat me like I’m a toddler,” Tony scowled. He glanced away, hating the feel of Thor’s eyes on him. The elder vampire chuckled, a hearty and healthy laugh.

“You are but a mere child to me, Young One. You must realize that.”

Tony gripped onto the rail of the balcony, watching the lights, purple tinged with red, flutter through the night. Some called them wisps, others ghosts, still others theorized they were the souls of the dead that never transformed. “And Natasha? She’s much younger than you are.”

“Yes,” Thor agreed. “Much younger, more brutal. More unforgiving. It is what is needed in these days of turmoil. She will get the coven through this and we will be stronger for it.”

“But why her? Why do you follow her?”

Thor released an unneeded breath. “She saved me from my brother. I have always had a soft spot for him. I always allowed him much when I shouldn’t have. She recognized it and saved me, saved my mate. She will do anything for the coven including the human mates. Don’t let her hard edges fool you. She will protect your Steven if it is necessary.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Tony muttered and leaned onto the rail, hands clasped as he observed the wonders of the night. 

“Take solace in your coven, Anthony. It will be the one thing that will be with you for all of your days,” Thor said and grasped his shoulder before departing and leaving Tony to his thoughts. One of the things Thor had not said was that Steve would be with him for all of his days. Steve wasn’t aging, at least not at a normal human rate. Tony assumed that meant he was as immortal as a vampire, but he never considered the fact that Steve was infinitely more fragile in many more ways. 

Over the course of the next few days, Tony spent hours doting on Steve until his mate chased him away. “Please, Tony, go to your workshop or something. Make yourself useful. You don’t have to watch me eat every morsel of food.” He still looked too pale to Tony, but at least he functioned a little more normally. He had more energy, though not up to his super soldier amounts. He could stand up without getting as lightheaded. The synthetic blood did its job and bolstered his blood system, but it was the serum working overtime that would save Steve. 

Even as Steve ordered him away, Tony felt his fangs grow with hunger. Shamefaced, he raced away to his workshop and spent the next few hours going over the specs for the new energy source he invented for Stark Industries. While Pepper funneled money to him, he shuffled new inventions to the company to keep it solvent and healthy. She patented all of them under her name and Stark Industries. Working on the reactor didn’t help him stay away from his own mind. It circled back to his hunger. Usually when he had a normal feeding – which was less than a pint of blood – he could go for a week or more without feeding again. He’d already had much more than that and his belly ached for it. Anytime he thought of Steve, his feeding glands salivated, and his fangs grew prominent in his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? He took to raiding Bruce’s stash of pig’s blood and downed a few pints. It sickened him, but he managed to keep it down. He snuck it after Steve discovered him drinking a mug of it in his workshop in the middle of the night. Steve looked betrayed, but said nothing, so after that Tony made sure Steve never saw the mugs of animal blood again. Thankfully, Steve excused himself and went back to bed where he belonged.

Natasha visited him in his self-imposed exile in his workshop. Bruce trailed after her but, as usual, he stayed in the corners, jittery as all hell. “We have a problem.”

“I thought we already figured that one out,” Tony said as he went through the newest diagnostics on the reactor. He never turned to look at her. “Ross declare all vampires enemies of the state?”

“Well, no, not yet,” Natasha said. She thumbed behind her to indicate Bruce when Tony turned his attention to her. “Bruce discovered a glitch.”

“Glitch in what?” He almost asked about the pig’s blood but then his stone brain focused on Steve. “The synthetic blood. There’s something wrong with it. I knew it. I knew that was the reason-.”

Natasha put her hands up to stop him. “No, Tony. No. It’s the security system.”

That got his attention completely, and he balled up the holographic projects and tossed them to the save folder. “What? JARVIS didn’t report anything to me.”

“That’s even more of a problem,” Bruce murmured in the shadows.

“For Christ’s sakes, Bruce, get out here and explain it to me.” Tony had no patience for his woe-is-me shit. 

Bruce cringed at Tony’s outburst and Natasha arched a brow at him, but she didn’t reprimand him, and he took that as a win. Bruce shuffled over to the keyboard and started to type, his fingers flying over the console. “I went to check on some of the security that you installed. You know, we talked about it about a month or so ago. And you wrote the code into JARVIS and I wanted to see how it was working.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. He recalled those nights with Bruce. While the man could be a little bit standoffish due to his past, he had a brilliant mind and, as scientists, they worked well together. They tweaked some of the perimeter security as well as JARVIS’ functionality in order to tighten up the borders. “Good times.”

“Well, not so good anymore,” Bruce said, and he finished accessing JARVIS’ security parameters. “Look at this.”

Tony stood up, dumbfounded and stunned. “What the hell is that?”

“There’s a massive hole in the code,” Bruce said. “And it looks like-.” He tapped a few more times. The display changed to another code spiraling over the rest of JARVIS’ code. “A new code is just eating away at all of the security protocols.”

“Fuck, what the fuck. I have anti-virus and malware protections running 24/7. Firewalls and space chasms.”

“Spasm chasms?” Natasha asked.

“It’s something I invented. It’s like a moat around a castle, but a virtual one. This one is completely filled with code and crap now.” He stood next to Bruce. “This is all wrong. It’s not even crap code. It’s functional code.”

Natasha crossed her arms. “And what does that mean for the safe house?”

Tony peered over his shoulder at her. “What does it mean for all of the coven safe houses. It means we’re exposed. Very exposed. It means-.”

Alarms screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

The screech roused him out of a deep slumber, but it still took too long for him to react, for him to stumble out of the bed, because the tangled around his sheets. Steve pitched forward onto the floor of the bedroom and shook himself, rubbing at his eyes and forcing his way past the groggy feeling clouding his brain. His arms tingled as he pushed up from the floor and stopped. He hung there, between kneeling and laying prone, as the room looped around him. The serum wasn’t working fast enough, not nearly fast enough to replace what he’d given Tony. Yet, Tony had been hungry, so insatiably hungry that Steve would do it again, in a heartbeat. The nausea came over him as he waited out the dizzy spell. It took too long as the security system screamed warnings of perimeter breach. 

“JARVIS, what time-.” He had to stop, swallow down the saliva and bile, and start again. “What time is it?” JARVIS didn’t answer. That couldn’t be good. He reached for the bed, hoisted himself up, and then sat there, panting for several minutes as if he’d just had an asthma attack. He blinked a few times, trying to focus, but the world kept pixelating around him. Even after a few days, the blood loss plagued him. How much had Tony drank?

No time to consider the consequences now. Steve heaved himself to his feet and went to the closet. He pulled out his pants and shirt. He dressed as quickly as he dared considering the room spun around if he moved too fast. He grabbed hold of his holster for the shield and clipped it on, and then slipped on the shield. He felt whole and protected with the shield, even though he wasn’t certain he could actually throw it with any accuracy at this point. Going to the bedside table, he retrieved the Gatorade there, snapped it open, and drank it down. He pulled out the door, searched around and found the iron pills. He down a few and finished off the rest of the Gatorade. 

After he suited up as much as he could without a uniform, Steve went to the window and hit the manual switch to untint it. “Damn.” 

Dawn.

They timed it just right, like he would have done as a Captain of the V-Corps. The perimeter was at least a half mile off but he spotted helicopters – a fleet of them headed toward the safe house. Just as he turned to leave the room, Tony slammed open the door and then dropped to the floor to avoid the splash of sun light from the window. Steve struck the switch again and the windows grayed out. 

“Tony!” He ran to his side. Grasping his arm, he got Tony to his feet. 

“All sides. The perimeter’s been breached and we are surrounded. I’m trying to get our helicopter to the pad, but I doubt it will get out of the garage without them shooting it down.” Tony shook under Steve’s hands. “It’s dawn, Steve. Dawn.”

“I know, I know. The tunnel to the garage. Let’s get there.” Steve gripped Tony’s wrist. Letting adrenalin energize him, Steve rushed out of the room and down the hallway with Tony in tow. 

Even as they ran, Tony gasped, “JARVIS is offline. They sabotaged my AI. They got in through my defenses. I don’t know. I don’t know how!” He cracked as they hurried toward the elevator and the tunnel to the garage. “I sent the code directly to the copter to get out of here. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know.” The endless loop of fear and anxiety caught Tony in its grasp, knotting him up, making his brilliant mind useless. “God, I sent Happy out, but what about the rest? I don’t even know if they’re safe, if Happy is okay.”

Steve skidded to a stop. He panted as he gripped both of Tony’s shoulders. “You have to pull it together Tony. How they did it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. They’re here to clean this place out. To take away everything you worked for, to-.”

“To capture you,” Tony said, and blood tears glimmered in his eyes. “I did this – I caused it. You’re too weak.”

“God damn it, Tony. Stop!” Steve wanted to throttle him, but he hissed through clenched teeth and said, “I need you to pull yourself together. We can figure everything out once we’re safe. And we will get safe, Tony. I promise you that. I promise you!” Reprimanding Tony, stopping in the middle of their flight from the oncoming threat caused a lightheadedness to swim over Steve. He braced himself against the wall and swallowed down the nausea. “We need to get out of here.”

“Jesus,” Tony said and clutched Steve’s hand. “Do you need me to carry you?” He wiped the blood tears away, smearing them across his cheeks.

“No. Shit, no,” Steve said and steadied himself before he got his sea legs again and started down the hall. Tony had said something about Happy, about the others. His mind flipped over skittering along not grasping enough of what was going on. “What about everyone else?”

“Natasha was taking care of most of them. I don’t know. She sent Thor to the other covens, he can’t help. All hell just broke loose,” Tony said and followed him as they continued toward the elevator bank. A rumble thundered through the house and they stopped, listening. “Fuck, that was fast. They’re here.”

“ 

 

The adrenalin did nothing for Steve when push came to shove. Steve faltered and then staggered, collapsing down the stairs and hitting hard on the landing as he fell to his knees. When he tried to open his eyes, the blur of dizziness confounded him. He whined low in his throat and closed them again. The vertigo wouldn’t let up, and he tasted the acid of bile in the back of his throat. 

“Steve! Fuck,” Tony said and bent down on one knee in front of Steve as he cracked his eyes open. “Can you walk? God, you’re so pale.”

Steve didn’t want to admit it, but he was suffering the consequences of too many feedings for Tony too close together. The serum was a miracle, but it wasn’t magic. 

“Come on. Get up.” Tony wrapped Steve’s arm around his shoulder and then heaved him up to his feet. Steve wanted to struggle away, made a half-hearted attempt, but the lack of oxygen throbbed through him and his vision went dark for a second before resolving again. 

“Trying,” Steve heard himself say in the distance. He mumbled a curse and then listened to the faded memory of his mother telling him to always get up, always stand up. With that conviction echoing in his head, Steve climbed to his feet, shrugged off an insistent Tony, and started down the stairs.

“You don’t have to be brave, you know. I can help you,” Tony said as they scrambled down the stairs. The physical alert system of the compound flashing and screaming in the corridors and stairwell as they hurried to the garage.

“I think you have that a little bit backwards,” Steve said and stopped at the doorway that opened to the garage. He signaled for Tony to get behind him and up against the wall. His breaths came in sharp painful pants. It was his weak body all over again. He pulled down his shield, rotated his shoulders, and then adjusted his grip on the shield. “I want you to stay behind me and the shield. You’ll be most protected that way.”

Tony grimaced as he said, “I can’t get any read out from JARVIS about where they are or where Natasha might be.” He tapped a communications earbud he had in his right ear. “Nothing. I can’t fucking believe they got into my AI.”

“Right now, let’s focus on the present. We have to get across the garage and to the truck I-.” 

Tony interrupted him. “That truck is traceable and a piece of junk. We go to one of my cars. They don’t know all of my cars. We should be safe using them.”

Had Tony mentioned Happy? Steve thought he had. His mind was so fuzzy. “Does Happy have a way out?”

A startled look crossed Tony’s face and he quietly cursed. Tony shook his head. “I don’t know but if he’s caught, Happy’s been instructed to tell them I have been holding him enthrall for the last ten years. He’s to pretend he’s happy to be rescued.”

Steve frowned but he couldn’t blame Tony for directing Happy to save his own hide in whatever means possible. “Let me go first.”

Tony grabbed him, halting his motion to open the door. “What the hell, Steve? You’re practically falling down on your feet. They can shoot me and nothing’s going to happen.”

“You’ll lose blood,” Steve replied and didn’t want to add that it was precious blood that Steve had lost but the words hit Tony without even being spoken.

“Don’t do this,” Tony said.

“It’s already done.” Steve opened the door and started forward, not looking back to see if Tony followed him. He knew Tony would; he clung to Steve by keeping his hand on his shoulder as they crept around the corner and then toward the open bay of the garage. Tony jerked his hand on Steve’s shoulder, indicating the direction of his cars. Steve had to admit silently to himself that using the same truck was a dead give-away and they would never make it more than a few miles out of the compound. 

No one confronted them as they eased their way into the garage bay. He didn’t spot Natasha, Bruce or anyone else. His heart raced and pounded in his ears with a nearly distracting beat. He splayed open his hand and then gripped the shield’s straps more firmly. Tony yanked him in the right direction and they ended up in front of a silver and black Audi A7 sedan. Tony pulled him in as soon as they got to the vehicle. 

“You have to let me drive,” Steve said as Tony opened the driver side car door. “It’s dawn. Get in the back and cover up.” He handed Tony the shield and they both got into the sedan. Tony offered him the keys. 

“Tell me you can do this,” Tony asked.

“I can do this all day,” Steve said and smiled. “Now cover up as much as possible.”

Tony crawled to the footwell behind the passenger side while Steve pulled the front seat up as close to the dashboard as possible, but then laid the back to the seat down to shade Tony. It would be a tight fit for Tony but he would be safe. 

“Get ready. As soon as I go up the ramp, I’m sure they will be there.” Steve hit the ignition and the car roared to life. He backed up out of the parking spot and headed to the exit. All the while the fuzziness in his head clouded his vision and he blinked away the blurriness. “Ready?”

“Just go!” Tony said as he stayed huddled under the shield and the reclined seat. 

Steve drove the car up the ramp. Daylight flooded the sedan and silhouetted cars jammed the pathway. He had no other choice as he hit the accelerator and shifted gears to ram through the vehicles blocking the ramp. The crash caused the air bags in the front to inflate and Steve fought for control of the car. He fisted the pillowed cushion and managed to pop it. It deflated, allowing him to maneuver the steering wheel freely. With a spin on the wheels, he drifted across the pavement that led to the perimeter and the gates a mile out. Over the din of his own heart racing in his ears, Steve caught the chopping sound of helicopter blades in the air. He crouched down as he gunned the car past a group of V-Corps toward the road to the gates. 

Bullets pinged against the metal of the car. 

As the helicopter zeroed in on them, Steve whipped the car around and toward the back of the house where he knew there was a delivery entrance. It wasn’t an easy route and more suited for an all-terrain vehicle than a sporty sedan but going toward the main entrance was fool’s play. The tires squealed as he pushed the car across the pavement, to the gravel and then around the house. A hail of bullets followed them.

“You okay back there?” Steve asked as the throbbing of his overtaxed heart drilled in his head. He blinked away the fog in his vision. 

“Didn’t know vampires could feel motion sick,” Tony called. “Working on getting access to the perimeter boundaries at least. If you could hold it steady, I might be able to read something on my phone.”

Steve smirked. 

A helicopter swooped down and a gunner leaned out of the side, targeting the car. “Hold on!” Steve rammed his foot onto the accelerator, flooring it. The car pitched over the bumpy road, spiking into the air and landing with a jarring crash. His vision blacked out for a second – something that never occurred anymore since Project Rebirth. Now, Steve found himself gasping for air and willing his heart to slow down. The pain in his chest spread and tightened at the same time. He sped the Audi down through the forested road. Thankfully the trees offered cover from the aerial attack.

Sirens shrieked behind them as he squinted against his funneling vision. He cursed the daylight. If it hadn’t been sunny out, Tony would be able to drive. Where the hell was Thor? From the vehicles following them a barrage of gunfire peppered the car. Glass shattered. “Stay down! Stay down!” Steve screamed as a bullet nicked his shoulder. 

They were closer than he’d thought. He hissed through the pain but was grateful – it jolted him enough that his alertness ratcheted up a notch – just what he needed. The unassuming back gate to the perimeter of the compound loomed. There was no way for him to stop and get it to open. 

“Any luck getting into the security system?” Steve yelled to Tony over the cacophony of helicopter blades above and gunfire at ground level. 

“I’m trying. I got some access,” Tony reported.

“Can you get the back gate open?” Steve asked and curved away from one of the cars as they tried to smash into the side of the Audi.

“Think so,” he replied and then cursed at his phone. 

A V-Corps squad car bashed into the side of the Audi, and Steve clutched the steering wheel before throwing the car into neutral and skidding around. He battered the assaulting car, crashing the Audi into the side, then backed up and twisted the wheels to head toward the gate again. The Audi protested, the steering wheel harder to turn. He gritted his teeth as he drove directly toward the gate. “Tony, I need the gate open now.”

Another round of bullets swept the car. Steve heard the ping-ping as they went through the roof and hit the vibranium of the shield partially covering Tony. 

“It should open,” Tony yelled. “Now, now!” 

The crank of the gate slowly opened, but Steve couldn’t hold on; he couldn’t wait. A line of V-Corps SUVs raced after them. He threw the clutch into high gear and hit the pedal to the floor. The Audi leapt toward the gate, kicking up the gravel and burning the pavement as he dunked down and thundered through the wire fencing with the small sign on it warning of private property and that all trespassers would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. The gate scraped over the hood of the car, breaking the windshield, cracking it. The glass shattered as the gate caught on the road, tugged, and then flung away from the car. The shards of glass hit Steve in the face and he used his arm to shield himself as much as possible. 

Even as he tried to flee, a dual set of helicopters appeared in the sky and unloaded a volley of gunfire. Their aim was true and hit the Audi in the engine and the tires. He was dead in the water before he could get the car a few meters from the compound. It sputtered to a halt. 

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice filled with remorse. 

“Don’t Steve. Don’t.” Tony covered his head. “Run if you can. Please run.”

The SUVs surrounded them. There was nowhere to go. He couldn’t leave Tony. The V-Corps agents got out of the vehicles, weapons at the ready. “Out of the car. Now!”

That was Rumlow. Of course. Steve glanced back at Tony. “I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.”

“Don’t worry. Just hang on. I will get out of this and I will save you.”

Rumlow and his agents approached the car. 

Tony peered up from his hiding place and winked at Steve. “Not if I save you first.”

The driver side car door opened and Rumlow stood there, his face twisted in a sneer yet his words were softer than Steve expected. “Come on, Captain. Out of the car. We’ll take care of him if you surrender without a fight.” Helicopters flew overhead, cutting the air with their blades.

Steve gave one last glance to Tony hunched under the passenger side seat. Steve had used up the last drop of adrenalin and whatever energy supplies he’d had. Nothing was left. He was spent. He remained frozen at the wheel. He kept his hands in sight. “Is that your word or Ross’?”

“Both,” Rumlow said. “We were brothers in arms for how many years, Captain? Get out of the car and this doesn’t have to escalate any more than it already has.”

Steve licked his lips. His mouth was dry and the thirst from the anemia nearly drove him crazy. He nodded. 

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Rumlow directed, “Get some water. Everyone weapons trained, but do not fire unless I say.” He gestured for Steve to get out of the car.

Steve followed with his hands raised. He met Rumlow’s stare head on. “Don’t hurt him.” 

Rumlow smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “You so sure you want to do it this way. Looks like he hurt you pretty damn much.”

“Mind your own business, Brock,” Steve spat out. Six more agents approached, all with their weapons still raised. Steve turned around to face the car and so he could watch as they got Tony out of the vehicle. 

Rumlow put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and said, “On your knees, Captain.”

He went to his knees as a half dozen agents went to the other side of the car to remove Tony from it. “Don’t hurt him!” Even that small bit of resistance cost him. His temples pounded with a headache and he swayed from the lack of oxygen. He swallowed repeatedly, trying to stop the need to vomit. 

The agents on the opposite side of the car opened up the back passenger side door. One of the agents opened an umbrella and another one brought a blanket to cover Tony. Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Rumlow was telling the truth after all. As his own arms were yanked behind his back and cuffs clicked into place, an agent guided Tony out of the car. The blanket fully shrouded him. 

“See, I told you we would take care of him,” Rumlow snickered. “Ross has big plans for your boy.” He tightened the cuffs. “Don’t worry, he has big plans for you too.” He jerked Steve to his feet. “Oh yeah. He did ask me to do this, just to make sure you got the message.” He forced Steve to turn around, and then pushed him up against the car. Without pause, he punched Steve in the jaw, snapping his head around. Steve choked on the blood in his mouth but then spat it out. Not a surprise at all. So he gathered all of his strength against the growing weakness in his body and stood up to glare at Rumlow.

“He also told me to do this.”

The knife Rumlow pulled out of his vest pierced Steve’s gut. He hissed and went to this knees as he heard Tony scream _no!_ in the distance. It shouldn’t have been a debilitating stab wound, but the blood leaked out like water – so thin and red. He crumpled to the pavement and his vision funneled to black as he lost consciousness…

A low rumbling growled in the distance. His eyes stuck closed and he shifted because his arms and shoulders ached. Cold. He was desperately cold, frigid enough to bring memories and images of Arctic waters smashing through glass, the tidal wave punishing in its power. Steve gulped for air and opened his reluctant eyes only to shut them again. 

Secured. Imprisoned. 

He blinked and managed to get a feel for his surroundings. He recognized an interrogation room where they brought the co-conspirators and traitors to the Department of Human Security. He’d only been in the cell once – a long time ago when he’d first woken from the ice. They’d taken him on a tour of the Triskelion down into the bowels of hell. They showed him, in fine display, the things they did to humans who would act treasonously to their own kind. Then they escorted him to the upper levels, to the roof where they splayed out vampires, cruciform to flay and waste away in the sunlight. They had been accused of mating with the humans locked in the prisons in the sub-basement. One of them had been a young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty. She could barely lift her head as they stood there, watching the skin peel away from her weakened body under the sun’s harsh rays, witnessing how her body deprived of blood and darkness decomposed as she rotted still alive on the cross. She’d begged him for help, her pleas quiet and desperate. He shook as he stood there with the uniform on and his life just starting in this century. The star on his chest blazed silver in the day and it felt like it burnt a hole straight through his sternum and into his heart. 

After, he’d spent the next hour in the bathroom puking and crying. Fury had found him. Steve had never been so ashamed. He had been Captain America, fought in World War II, saw the worst that humans could do to one another, but still to wake up in a new century only to see it had turned and decayed into something horrific after all he fought for and hoped for all those years ago. Fury waited for him to clean up and then half sitting on the edge of the sink, told him that things could be different. The V-Corps could be something different; it needed to transform. They needed leadership like Steve, someone with integrity, morals, and the ability to inspire. That was Captain America, Fury insisted. Steve complied, but within a week he lost all hope and ended up giving himself over to a Blood Den, hoping to die. But he didn’t – Tony happened, Tony saved his life.

Now – now Tony was mostly likely up on the roof, dying a slow and painful death as Steve hung from chains in the basement prison cell. Only a single bare bulb shined down on him. A circle of light showcased him. He was stripped to his undershorts. The knife wound in his abdomen still dripped, trailing down his inner thigh to a puddle of blood on the concrete floor. There was a small drain grate below him, he knew. The grate was used to wash away the blood and other bodily fluid. His feet barely reached the floor at all. Shackles linked his ankles to the floor, so he couldn’t swing out and use his legs as a defense.

Gritting his teeth and taking in a full breath, Steve swung up to break the chains just as the prison door behind him creaked open. He halted his attempt, staring instead at the darkness surrounding him. It had to be Ross or Pierce. Did Fury even know he was locked down here? Was Fury complacent in their crimes? The footfalls sounded like boots and not dress shoes. He cringed. It must be Fury or Rumlow. If it was Fury, then Steve would blame himself for falling, all those years ago, for the Director’s sales pitch. Steve had a tendency to believe in the best of people, and that, with perseverance and dedication, he could win over anyone to his side. Yet the footfalls were familiar, too familiar.

Steve closed his eyes, not wanting to confront the truth. Hiding from the truth only brought pain and suffering later. He clamped his mouth shut as his Second in Command walked around him and stood not five feet from him.

“Don’t try and break the chains. All you’ll do is hurt yourself and they want you to do that.” Clint stayed in the shadows as if Steve wouldn’t be able to recognize his voice. “The metal is adamantium. Strongest stuff around. Stronger than even Captain America.”

Steve broke his short-lived vow to stay silent. “What are you doing here, Clint? Why are you here?” Steve wrestled with the chains, feeling them, trying to find out if what Clint told him might be true. 

Clint remained a distance away from him, as if he feared that Steve might retaliate. “You don’t know how it is. You didn’t grow up with the Vamp War as a memory.” 

If this was the evil villain giving his _woe is me_ speech, Steve might actually puke on him. “I’m not going to give you anything, Clint. Nothing. You betrayed your mate. You betray-.”

“Yes, I did. I betrayed my wife and children.” He stepped partially into the light. His face wrecked and his eyes red from tears. “You don’t know how it was after the wars with the vamps. How it tore apart families, how it ravaged countries. A country attacked is one on the defensive, always. Always. It never wants to let its guard down again.” He shook his head. “You could never understand. You don’t have family here. Only a vampire that you let drain you.”

“Clint, we worked together for years. For years!” Steve said and tried to prop himself up when the strain on his arms tugged and pulled.

“And I can honestly say when you came along, my vision of the vamps changed,” Clint said. “I finally got it. I wanted to be a better person, to make things better, to show the world that tolerance and peaceful coexistence was possible.” 

Steve gritted his teeth against the strain but asked, “Then what changed? Why this? Why did you betray Natasha?” Or was he ever mated? Natasha would know the difference, wouldn’t she? It made no sense to think she wouldn’t. 

Clint searched Steve’s face, looked at the dripping wound on this side. “God damn it, Steve, don’t you get it? I lost everything, everything. I did what I had to do. I did what was necessary. You don’t know. You didn’t grow up in the shadows of the vamp wars!”

As he spoke, the door behind Steve opened again, the light filtering in, and another person entered. He was smoking and said, “Now, Agent Barton, that’s enough. You don’t need to apologize to Rogers. He’s a traitor, after all. You, on the other hand, are a good man and a loyal citizen.”

Clint glanced at Ross and then physically flinched at the words. He looked at up Steve, at him hanging there like a piece of meat, and shook his head. “I didn’t have choice. You have to understand. My kids.”

“That’s enough, Agent Barton.” Ross came to stand in front of Steve. “Agent Rumlow,” he called. “Please escort Agent Barton to see his family. They’re waiting for him.”

Steve pushed forward but the chains suddenly went stiff, as if they weren’t chains at all. When he looked up, the chains had morphed into long poles with cuffs at the end. Adamantium had properties but he didn’t think it could transform like this -.

“Nanobots, thanks to your vampire mate.” Ross smiled and the glimmer in his eyes shined in the light. Rumlow entered the room and gestured for Clint to follow him. “He was working on them, though it was officially Stark Industries.”

Clint only met Steve’s gaze and said nothing, but the ruin of his face said it all. Steve wanted to give him some relief, tell him it would be okay. But that would be a lie. 

“It took some time to get the nanobots,” Ross said as the door to the cell closed. “Stark’s friends are exceedingly loyal. We couldn’t infiltrate as easily as we expected to, so Barton had to be the tool all around. He didn’t just betray you yesterday, Rogers. This has been going on for months. Months. He’s been loyal to the V-Corps.”

“Because you threatened his children, you bastard,” Steve jeered. “What kind of man uses innocent children as a tool to get what he wants?”

As Ross considered him, the knife wound in Steve’s side throbbed. Blood dribbled out. “Captain, you called yourself a hero, but what you are is a grandiose fake. You pretend to symbolize something that you betray. You’re a traitor and a liar, and I should throw you in a prison in the middle of the ocean for the rest of your days.”

Steve ignored Ross. He’d been called worse in his day. He’d been a poor bisexual man in the middle of New York City in the 30s. During his youth he’d been besieged by prejudice and hatred. Sure, it had never been as bad as vampires, but the fact remained that the laws at the time put him in the same bucket as vampires. A perversion of the norm. A disgusting creature that only needed to be hunted down and thrown away, separated from the rest of the normal, beautiful society. 

Unimpressed by Steve’s stoic response, Ross walked up to him and smiled. “I’m not going to do that. You see, you’re much more important to me than that.” He placed a finger on Steve’s side, close to his injury. Steve hung there, frozen as Ross glided his hand around on his torso. “Human perfection. That’s what they called you, you know. Perfection, so beautiful and so profoundly wrong.” His finger touched the injury and Steve bit back a hiss of pain. It should have been healed by now. It was only a stab wound. Throughout his years in the war and as a V-Corps agent, he’d suffered worse. Ross eyed him and then pushed his finger in slowly. “He must have drunk excessively from you for it not to heal.” He cocked an eyebrow as he watched Steve try and remain passive to the probing in his wound. Steve held back any sound, any cry of pain. “It’s the serum that must have drove him to drink so much. How did you manage for so many years? So many, many years?”

Ross stepped away, slipping his finger out of the stab wound. The thin blood dripped on the floor. “You know Barton never let on. He never told us it was you.” Ross snickered. “He did have some loyalty to his Captain, I suppose. I can’t blame him for that, but I will. He will suffer that we had to wait so long to figure it out.”

“You don’t fucking touch him or his family!” Steve shouted at Ross as he tried to manipulate the shackles even as they tightened and constricted around his wrists and ankles. 

“So much faith in your friend even after he betrayed you and your vampire scum?” Ross said and tilted his head. “Interesting.” He stared at his bloodstained finger. “I heard your blood is gold. Did he love to suck you dry through your cock?”

“Fuck you!” Steve relaxed his muscles and finally the nanobots in the adamantium chains quieted. 

Ross shook his head. “Really, Captain, that language. You’re the pinnacle of human perfection and a symbol of this country. And that’s how you speak to your superiors?” Ross thrust his finger back into Steve’s stab wound. It sent hot spikes of pain through Steve. Piercing and searing. He clamped his jaw shut and tightened his muscles, trying again to hold back his cry.

“Even the best of us fall, Captain. Even the best,” Ross said and slid his finger out. This time he didn’t just let it drip on the floor. This time he held his finger out for Steve to see the crimson stains. He waited only a few seconds before he brought it to his lips and slipped the whole of his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off. When he finished he dropped his hand and said, “No difference, no difference at all. You’re just the same nobody you’ve always been.”

“And you’re still the same sick bastard I met six years ago.” The memories of the rooftop crucifixes hit him, and he nearly let out a cry for Tony. How many times had he gone up to the rooftop over the years? He’d worked with Fury to release as many of the innocent vampires he’d could from the crosses. He secreted them away. There had been failures over the years and times he couldn’t save all of them and he still hated himself for those he lost, but he’d tried. 

“Oh yes, I’ve stayed true to the cause. Not like you, not like your Director Fury or his sidekick Maria Hill,” he laughed as he talked. “Yes, I know about both of them. Though as soon as we made the move on you, they conveniently disappeared. Fury was a spy in another life I think.”

Well, that confirmed Steve’s hopes that Fury might still be in play and may still be on his side, though he had no idea about the rest of the coven or their humans. How many were in cells like these? How many of the coven were chained to crosses on the rooftop baking in the sunlight? Just the thought of those crosses, of Tony nailed to one of them. sent Steve into a rage and he bucked against the manacles only to have them turn from chains to solid mass again, keeping him in place. He screamed and cried out.

“Yes, Captain, now you are seeing that you are here to stay,” Ross said as the door opened again to the cell. “Agent Rumlow. I’m so pleased you came back. We need to start now. The wound looked like it was healing a bit so I opened it up again. Bring your men and women in and ensure that he’s weakened. I need him drained but not dead. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ross paused in front of Steve before he departed, he said to Rumlow, “It is such a waste. Isn’t?”

“If you say so, sir,” Rumlow said and stood at ease, as if he’d been in the military. Ross assessed Steve one last time. “We’ll make sure he’s not dead.”

“Make sure he suffers, Brock. He needs to be made an example of to the rest of the agents. When we’re finished, his dry husk will be hung in the training rooms for all of the agents to see.” Ross smiled. It oozed. “Human perfection.”

The door clicked shut behind him and Rumlow sighed. For a second, Steve thought he might have an accomplice in Brock as he stood there, unmoving. Then his hopes dissipated as Rumlow pulled out his knife and speared it through the old injury. Steve screamed out a cry and then panted through the pain. 

“Sorry about that Cap. It’s the way it is. It’s nothing personal, like I said before,” Rumlow said and slowly twisted the knife. “You think I should slice you sideways and open you up like a frog on a dissecting table. I could pull out your intestines, let them hang out there. Supposed to be an awful way to die.” He chuckled. “Did you see that during the war? Kids, boys, laying out with their hands over their guts crying for their mommas. Will you cry for your momma?” He shoved the knife in farther and Steve felt it tear through the skin on his back. 

“Fuck you, Brock.” Steve clenched his teeth and shivered as Rumlow widened the hole. 

“Well, we just need to keep you weak for now,” Rumlow said and yanked the blade out to Steve’s hiss. Without any fanfare, Rumlow took the knife and cut through the waistband on his boxers, then tore them off Steve. “Sorry, but there’s no reason for you to be clothed at all. You’re never going to need clothes again, not after they’re done with you.”

“I don’t care what they do to me,” Steve spat and Rumlow gaze up at him. 

“You want to be brave, show how tough you are?” Rumlow widened his smile. “Let’s do this then. Protocol 1C.” The adamantium chain firmed up and then the nanobots crawled down his arms, covering them. The ankle shackles transformed as well and then slithered up his legs. “They made this just for you. Tested it on some unfortunate souls. But it works fine now.” He stopped and then stated, “Rack him.”

The solid chains securing him to the ceiling and the floor shifted. Steve looked up but the single bulb blinded him from seeing what the nanotech was doing. The nanite bonds began to move, splaying out his arms and legs. 

“Increase tension by twofold,” Rumlow directed, and the nanotech answered him. The mechanism embedded in the floor and ceiling cranked alive. It strung Steve’s limbs and pulled him toward the corners of the room. He struggled but the more he moved it seemed to feedback to the nanobots, making them that much more powerful. “Let’s keep him there while I work on his wound.” Rumlow studied Steve. “You know, when I heard they thawed you, I was kind of excited. Everyone knows your story. Everyone thought you would be a savior for the V-Corps.” He chuckled. “Weren’t we the fools?” He took out a small penlight from his vest. “Not fools anymore, huh?”

“Still fools. You fight against the way of the world. Vampires are always with us. They are humans just like us-.” 

Rumlow rammed the tip of the penlight into his wound. The pain sent flashes into his field of vision. Pressing the single button on the penlight, Rumlow said, “Delivery complete.”

“Wha-?” He felt it then, the delivery. The payload of nanobots sent into his stab wound. Tiny artificial organisms festered. Daggers split through his nerves and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to fight off the pain. He bit at his bottom lip. He couldn’t hold on, he couldn’t grab anything because the sheaths of nanobots over his hands paralyzed him and forced his hands open. The nanobots shackling him controlled him, kept him paralyzed.

“Vicious little fuckers, aren’t they? Rumlow whispered.

Steve juddered against his bonds, but each movement caused the rack to tighten and his joints to loosen. Through pure will alone, he compelled himself to stop struggling, to allow the nanobots to invade his injury. The skin around the wound scorched and puckered. Steve strained to look down at his side and saw the flesh heated. The smell of skin burning from the inside wafted up and hit his nostrils. He gagged.

“Yeah, that is not a nice smell at all,” Rumlow said. “Image what it smells like on the roof right about now.”

Memories of the vampires on the roof all those years ago paraded before his eyes as he grappled not to react to the searing pain surrounding and in his wound. He cleared his mind and thought of the many nights he spent with Tony. He loved to lie in the garden as the nightingale sang and the light breezes hit them. He recalled how they would rest on a blanket and Tony would raise a hand and outline the constellations. 

“I was never good at memorizing them,” Steve had said. “I knew the big dipper and the little dipper but that was it.”

“Well, city kids can’t see much, even when you grew up.” Tony snuggled closer and then whispered as he wove tales to Steve. “When I was little, and we would go out to the mountains I would go to the rooftop terrace at night and look at the stars. I would imagine that one cluster was a constellation of Captain America. That you didn’t die in the ocean or in the ice, but that when your plane crashed you were sent to the stars. All of your points of energy went up into the skies.” 

At that moment, he loved Tony. Loved him to a distraction. Every fiber of his being ached for Tony, wanted him. They’d learned early on that they had to pace themselves. They couldn’t be like new human couples. “Fornication is not validation,” Clint had joked to them. 

Maybe it wasn’t, but Steve still wanted Tony’s body close to him, wanted to share the joys of surrender and love with him. Giving Tony blood and offering his life became Steve’s mantra. Tony – so young as a vampire – yet with old eyes. Eyes of someone who had been betrayed as a human and seen his parents’ funerals too young. Eyes that shifted between the darkest brown to the lightest azure blue. Every moment those eyes landed on Steve, shared a glance or a gaze with Steve, were precious to him. The stars were nothing to Tony’s eyes. 

Rumlow’s eyes were cold and filled with malice. What happened to the almost friendly way he’d acted when they’d first been captured? An act. That was it. Steve knew it to be an act. Rumlow enjoyed cruelty. He probably kicked puppies and threw kittens in the trash. Rumlow watched Steve as he stiffened his resolve, taking strength from his memories and love of Tony. He narrowed his gaze at Steve, observing the power within him. 

“You know, I was there. I watched as they hung him on the tree. I sent the iron skewer through his chest.” Rumlow laughed. “He’s a corker, I can tell you that. Fights like a fucking mad dog. Bit quite a few of the Agents. Almost tore one of their heads off. Except we used the wood poisoned gloves.”

Steve breathed in and concentrated, concentrated on the one word – iron. They used iron on Tony. Not a wooden stake through his heart. He wasn’t dead. Vampires could survive a metal skewer through the heart. Tony was fighting. The joy in that realization brought a smile to his lips, and then a kind of strange hysteria as the nanobots spread out, burning flesh from his abdomen. The skin bubbled up, peeled away, reddening and then charring. The sensation sent lances of pain as the nanobots set fire to his skin from the inside and his body shivered in response. Yet, all he could think of was Tony, fighting and not dying. He wasn’t giving up, he wasn’t surrendering. It offered him a place of solace as the hole in his belly grew and the blood smeared down his waist to his groin. 

The smile that found its way to Steve’s lips must have shocked Rumlow because the agent growled out a curse and then shouted a new protocol number. Pain hazed his understanding of what Rumlow was doing. The nanite rack twisted his limbs and he cried out, though through gritted teeth. 

Steve heaved in a breath, trying to stabilize the pain level. A small whine escaped his lips. Rumlow watched him like a hawk observing its prey. “Let’s fix that, shall we? Cancel rack. Chains, please.” The bindings on his wrists and ankles slid away, leaving only the shackles with the chains winched to the ceiling and linked to the floor. “Kneel.”

He’d be damned if he followed any of Rumlow’s orders, but the chains above him loosened and the ones at his ankles yanked him so that he had no other choice but the follow the direction. Kneeling, he panted through the agony from the twisted joints. The serum made rapid work of such a minor injury but the burns on his torso grew with every passing second, and his skin flayed off, blackened and charred. A never-ending firebrand devoured him from the inside out. He blinked away the tears, trying to focus on Rumlow.

“I particularly like this one,” Rumlow said and retrieved something from his belt that looked like a ball gag. He snapped it in the air. “I don’t like to be disturbed while I work, and your panting and whining has got to go.” He took out his shock baton and held it in front of Steve’s face. “Open.”

Steve glared at him. He concentrated on the excruciating pain at his mid-section, how it throbbed with each beat of his heart. 

“Open your mouth,” Rumlow ordered and charged the shocker. Steve offered no response; he kept his eyes dull and focused on the middle distance. “Open your god damned mouth or I will brain you with this.” The shocker sparked and sizzled.

Steve looked at Rumlow before he slowly opened his mouth. It would only take a second. Precise timing. He had a knack for it. 

Rumlow smiled and switched off the shocker, hooking it back on his belt. “Now that was easy, wasn’t it?” He stretched out the gag and started to push the ball into Steve’s open mouth. 

Steve whipped his head to the side at the same time he swung forward. The chains offered little leeway, but he took what he could get and yanked on them to get enough momentum to clamp down on Rumlow’s hand with his teeth. Steve bit down, closing his jaw and freezing it. Rumlow screamed out, and yanked at his hand, but Steve bared down, feeling the crush of knuckles against this teeth and tongue.

“Fuck! Fucking stop!” Rumlow raged. He bashed his closed fist against the side of Steve’s head, but it did nothing to deter him. Steve bit down harder; the crunch of bones against his molars only served to encourage him. Skin tore in his mouth even as Rumlow punched him in his abdomen, where the nanobots where burning him from the inside. Steve hung on as tears streamed down his face, but he thought of Tony, alone on the roof, splayed out and crucified. 

“You son of a bitch! Stop!”

Steve forced his jaw down and mauled the hand, feeling tendons give way and flesh rip. Face to face with Rumlow, just inches away from the man, Steve snarled out and jerked his head, hard and fast, releasing Rumlow from his attack. The agent stumbled backward, his eyes wild with pain. His hand mutilated, missing part of one finger and the whole little finger. Steve snarled at him, blood dripping from his mouth. Rumlow curled over his damaged hand, screeching at him. Steve grinned, letting him see his bloody teeth and then he spat out the fingers. “Wanna try again, you filthy bastard?” Drool and blood cascaded down his chin and neck. He must look worse than a vampire in a feeding frenzy.

Rumlow shrieked out something unintelligible, sounding like the injured animal he was. He drew himself up, keeping his hand held closely to his chest. Licking his lips, he glowered at Steve and then advanced. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He pulled out his shocker stick, put it on full charge, and slammed it against Steve’s temple. 

White lightning streaked across his vision and then he saw Tony, hanging on the cross on the roof of the Triskelion. Light radiated from the metal skewer in his chest as he bowed his head. Steve approached him. He was dressed as if he was an honored member of the V-Corps. He crouched down low and studied Tony. He reached for the skewer, touching the warmth of the light. It felt like the rays of the sun on a summer day. He smiled and then met Tony’s gaze as he lifted his head. 

“Stay with me, sunshine,” Tony whispered and then fell silent as the darkness swallowed Steve once again…

As consciousness scratched its way back, his body ached with need. He grumbled but then something hard and large blocked the sound. He tried to bite down and the rubber of the ball gag stopped him. Steve blinked away the crud in his eyes. He groaned as his cock thickened. He tried to place what was going on, but a headache arced through his brain, bringing tears to his eyes. The pain streaked through his temple and into his cheekbone, piercing it like an ice pick, but at the same time his body responded to an erotic touch. He groaned around the gag and tried to focus.

Standing in front of him, Ross observed in the half dark twilight of the room. Steve lidded his eyes and tried to stop what was happening to his body, to figure out what was happening to him, but the fuzz in his head clouded any analytical thoughts. He growled this time, but it came out muted.

Ross smiled at him and then tilted his head. 

That’s when the weight, the mouth pressed up against his chest came into horrifying relief. A vampire – some vampire other than Tony – fed off of him, suckling at his chest. He was strung up again, his arms splayed out and his legs imprisoned constrained and tight together. His cock stood up straight as the vampire continued to feed and inject the hormone to cause the arousal. Steve willed his cock to stop, to go flaccid, but his brain couldn’t fight against biochemistry. He struggled in his bindings, pushing against the stranger sucking on his chest but he couldn’t get the leverage. The vampire pulled away then, and Steve flared his nostrils as he exhaled.

“No,” Ross said. “You’re not done. All the way. That was the deal. All the way.”

The vampire – a female – eyed Ross and then looked up at Steve. Her eyes were deep motes and her fangs were long – longer than Tony’s. Her pale face was gaunt and hollow – they had starved her. He closed his eyes and turned his head as much as he could as she went back to feeding. In his mind, he reached out to Tony, knowing he could hear him. Odd sensations crept over his skin as the vampire touched him, as she began to stroke him as she drank. He squeezed his eyelids and bit down on the gag. He didn’t want to come. 

_She’s a prisoner, too._

Not even that small fact assuaged the disgust running through him. The pain from his wound and the burns meant nothing in comparison to this creature touching him, violating him in the most intimate ways. 

_There’s nothing she can do to stop it._

The rational part of his brain attempted to alleviate the shame and the revulsion, but his body responded to the injection from her feeding gland. It shouldn’t be this way. It could only mean she had been feeding for a long time. A quiet sip, a long drink wouldn’t elicit this kind of reaction from a human’s body. She’d drank and then purposefully injected the arousal agent.

_She’s an accomplice._

He grappled against her, but the tiny movements only worked for her as she stroked his cock and then wrapped her other hand around his waist and then lower, pushing a finger into his ass. He screamed around the gag as Ross smirked. He shook his head, denying that it felt anything like a real orgasm. It felt dirty and ugly and he hated Ross and the vampire as he climaxed. It was weak and tore away at his integrity and honor. With self-abhorrence settling in his bones, he apologized to Tony. 

“That’s enough, now,” Ross said and stepped out of the shadows. Another V-Corps agent appeared at his side. Steve didn’t recognize the large soldier, but he knew the type all too well. The agent wrenched the woman off Steve and then pulled her aside. A long hunting knife was in his hand and he slashed her throat open, the blood she just drank spilled down her chest and onto the floor. Two men in white coats walked into the room pushing a gurney at the same time. The V-Corps agent tossed the dying vampire on the table and the two men in white checked her. 

Steve breathed heavily around the ball gag. His ass ached where she had dry fingered him and his cock still twitched from the orgasm. He glared at Ross as the man watched the proceedings. One of the lab-coated men turned. Steve caught his name tag – Reynolds.

The white coated man, Reynolds said, “Don’t have them slice its throat open the next time. Makes it hard to harvest the feeding glands.”

“You can still harvest them?” Ross asked.

“Yes,” Reynolds said and indicated his colleague. “Tyler can do it.” Tyler only nodded. “But we have to get her in the cold room ASAP. We don’t want whatever effects the serum has on the feeding gland to fade.”

“Do it,” Ross said, and the two scientists wheeled the vampire out, her dying eyes gazing at Steve. He shivered in his bonds. The enforcer type V-Corps agent stayed. Ross studied Steve and then moved into the shadows where Steve could barely see him. “You see, your blood is very valuable.”

Steve cursed but it came out muffled.

“We expect that it can do wonderful things to the feeding gland. Your metabolism works at roughly four times the speed of a normal metabolism. It’s predicted that you aren’t aging. Telomeric studies of your cells confirm that.” Ross paced in the dark. “Don’t look so shocked, Captain. Of course, we took tissue samples all those years ago when you were found. Tests and studies were done. And now there’s a theory. An important one that could change the world.” 

Steve already knew the theory. Why had they ever woken him up if they just wanted the serum and his cells? It came to him then. Bruce. Bruce and Ross had tried to figure out the secret to immortality once, when Ross’ daughter was sick and dying. Tony had told him that while they’d hid in the safe house. That disaster must have closed Ross’ experiments down for a while, for decades while he tried other avenues. 

“The serum could enhance the feeding gland. It could change everything,” Ross said and snickered. “Ages ago I longed for a way to save someone close to me. Maybe you heard the story from that sniveling vampire, Bruce? If I’d had the serum, I could have saved her. Everything would have been different then.”

Steve shifted in the shackles. He wanted Ross gone, he wanted to close his eyes and dream of Tony. He didn’t want to listen to the confessions of a madman. 

“One of the theories about the serum is that the more you tax it, the more it goes into overdrive, trying to heal you. It activates as you get injured. So, the more we injure you, the higher the activity,” Ross said. 

They would keep him alive, Steve concluded. Alive and in the dark room hanging from unbreakable chains. They’d keep him injured and in pain. Muted and violated. Ross continued to talk, babbling on about his plans, how this was God’s work. The words smeared together and fell into the blood stains on the floor. The smell of the room wafted around him, the blood, the semen. Piss. He must have urinated at some point. He couldn’t remember. The heat of embarrassment burned on his face. He shuddered against his bonds. Finding a way out, searching for a way to save Tony. He couldn’t even bargain, not with the gag on. 

“You did quite a job on poor Brock. He was in surgery for ten hours.” Ross flicked an eyebrow. “Couldn’t save the pinky. You crushed the bone with your teeth. That’s amazing, Captain. I didn’t know you were such a brutal bastard.” He snapped his fingers. 

The Enforcer at his side went to the door and opened it. A shuffled of boots but Steve didn’t bother to strain to look and see who it was. That fact was answered in seconds. “Jesus Christ, what the hell did you do to him?”

Clint stood to the side of the puddle of light encircling Steve. What he saw, Steve refused to be ashamed. Steve stared straight ahead, ignoring Clint. The ball gag still stuffed in his mouth. He stunk of blood, and urine, and come. His chest had been torn by the vampire. His abdomen ruined by the nanobots that burnt themselves out by flaying and charring his epidermis. He still felt the burn on the side of his head where Rumlow shocked him. His mouth tasted like the plastic of the ball and his lips cracked and chapped. 

The Enforcer took up residence right next to Clint. Ross gestured to Clint. “You are on duty, Agent Barton. You know what he did to Agent Rumlow.”

“Yes, sir, I do,” Clint said and never took his eye off Steve. 

“Well, your duty is to punish him for that transgression,” Ross said. “Remember our investigations into the serum require it to be activated. The scientists and researchers studying the problem theorize that causing injury will elicit the required response.”

“Yes, sir. I know, sir.” Clint remained frozen. He never stepped further into the light. He never came any closer to Steve.

“I understand he was your colleague. You were on his team, took direct orders from him. But you do know the punishment for betraying your own species, for putting humans at risk of contamination. Agent Barton, you know what’s at stake.” 

Before Clint moved, the door to the prison cell creaked open again and a long shadow from the light in the door way fell over his fellow agent. Steve watched as Clint flinched. 

“Now, now, Thad,” Pierce said as he entered the cell. He paused and then coughed. Taking out a handkerchief, Pierce said, “God, the stink is terrible.” He frowned and wiped his eyes and nose with the hanky. “Now, Thad, as I was about to say, I think we can give Agent Barton here a reprieve.” 

“I don’t think he deserves one,” Ross replied but never took his eyes off Pierce. In that moment, Steve caught the subtle changes in his face, how his brows furrowed just slightly, how his hands fisted, how his mouth turned downward. They didn’t like one another. They were enemies thrown together on a common cause. They were competitors.

“Well,” Pierce said and waved a hand to the door. Another agent walked in and handed him a silver bottle. “I think that it would be a good thing to feed our prisoner, especially since the serum does consume quite a bit of calories to stay functioning.” Pierce waited as Ross considered him. Once the latter gave a nod and a gesture to Barton, Clint took the offered flask. 

When Clint approached him, Steve wanted to condemn him. Yet, the wrecked look in his eyes, the way his mouth turned down, and the sallowness of his face wiped away Steve’s conviction. With a soft voice, Clint whispered to Steve, “I’m sorry.”

Steve only nodded in response since the ball gag kept him from speaking.

“Take off the gag. I’m sure the Captain won’t bite his own agent,” Ross said. Pierce stepped to the side of the Secretary. His eyes narrowed as he silently observed. 

Reaching, Clint unlocked the gag and then tugged it off. Clint had to yank the plastic ball out of Steve’s mouth. As he did, Steve’s eyes watered, and he worked his mouth. His jaw ached. Part of him, a small and quiet part – the child that curled in his bed sick and miserable as his mother soothed him with a hand through his hair – wanted only to beg for release, to plead for his arms to be unchained, to ask someone to clean away the semen staining his wounds on his belly. But the man that Sarah Rogers raised swallowed down the need for pity, the weakness of a little boy, and remained silent and stoic against the agony that befell him. 

“Steve, Steve,” Clint said. Steve jerked to attention and shifted his eyes to Clint. “Please. Take some. It will help.”

“It’s a protein drink, after all. Keep your strength up. Maybe you can bite off Thaddeus’ fingers next time?” Pierce chuckled as Ross scowled at the older man. 

Clint nudged the bottle toward Steve’s mouth. It had a straw that Clint snapped into place so that Steve could drink. Gently, Clint placed the straw at Steve’s lips as he spoke in low tones. “I’m so sorry. I had to. My wife, my kids.”

Steve took the straw in his cracked lips and met Clint’s gaze. He wanted to tell him it was all right. Again he wanted to lie to Clint and tell him everything would be fine, but the words wouldn’t come, because Tony was probably dead and Steve would hang here for as long as they wanted and they would have vampires feed off of him until they found whatever they were looking for – his brain fogged and the reasons escaped him. 

“Just drink.” The pleading in Clint’s eyes went straight to Steve’s heart – Clint couldn’t be blamed. He was fighting for his loved ones, for his children.

Steve followed Clint’s soft direction. He sucked on the straw, welcoming the relief of the drink. His mouth was hot and dry. The flood of the thick liquid hit his tongue – for only a nanosecond he relaxed but then the taste hit him, and he blanched, gagging and choking. The tang of metal and salt – the taste of blood in his mouth. He vomited up what little he’d swallowed, coughing as he did. His eyes watered, and he gagged again. 

All along, Clint screamed. “What the fuck? What the hell did you do? What? Blood? Fucking blood? He’s a human being, you god damned bastards.” Through his tears, Steve witnessed as Clint shoved the silver bottle in the face of Pierce. “Give him something. Give him some damned water!”

“No.” Pierce stayed perfectly composed. Ross delighted in the performance. Pierce smiled at Clint. “He eats what we give him. He drinks that whole bottle or your youngest will be a snack for the next vampire we capture.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Clint yelled. He went to throw the canister at them, but the gorilla of an agent caught his arm and grabbed the bottle, twisting Clint’s arm.

“Now, now, Agent Barton. You either do this or your youngest dies. It’s simple.” Pierce grinned and Steve swore he saw the devil standing in front of him. Pierce focused on Steve. “You like vampires so much, I thought you might enjoy experiencing what they love about humans.” The older man’s attention snapped to Clint as he grappled with the agent but couldn’t get free. “Feed him or I will bring your child in here and slit her throat.”

Clint sobbed and shook his head. Steve spoke, low and fierce. “Do it. Clint, do it.” Both Ross and Pierce turned to him as Steve said, “He’s a good man. You haven’t broken him, you haven’t broken anyone. Clint is a good man, a good father. You wouldn’t understand the love he has for his family. You wouldn’t understand the love that I share with Tony. You’re cold and dead – more than any vampire that walks the Earth. I will stand with the vampires and I will stand with Clint. I am their shield. Do what you want, but I will not crack.” He met Clint’s weeping eyes. “Do it.”

Clint relaxed his struggles. Pierce nodded to the enforcer agent and then waited as Clint took the silver flask away from the man. He gave one last glare at them and stepped up to Steve again. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You have to do this,” Steve said. “Just like I have to do this. Don’t think that your suffering is any less than mine. Do it. Do it quick.”

Clint swallowed down hard, flipped open the bottle, and offered it to Steve again. “Try and put the straw as far back as possible,” Clint whispered.

Steve opened his mouth and Clint did what he could to adjust the straw so that he wouldn’t taste the vile stuff. Steadying his breathing, Steve took the straw and closed his mouth around it. He tried not to sniff, not to smell the tang of metal, yet it burned his nostrils. He gave himself a count and then started to suck. Even with the straw as far into his mouth as possible, the taste was unmistakable. His stomach roiled and rebelled. He gagged.

Pierce walked up to him. “Swallow it, my dear Captain. Swallow it or his child dies in front of you.”

Steve settled his nerves, called on all the courage he had, and mustered the belief in Captain America. He swallowed. His stomach churned; the pressure of gagging pushed up on his throat. The coil of his sickened stomach contorted as he breathed through his nose and gulped down another mouthful. Clint urged him on, thanking Steve and sobbing as he kept the bottle in place. 

The thick revolting liquid gurgled down his throat as he fought to keep it down. Steve shuddered, and his vision hazed and pixelated. Gooseflesh rose on his body and even the charred skin on his mid-section went cold. He downed the drink and let the tears flow. The evilness of the place he used to work hit him – a place he once thought redeemable. It wasn’t – never was. It had been infected with a parasite inside of it. The V-Corps could have served as a conduit, a go between to the two different communities, but men – men like Ross and Pierce disrupted it and infested with evil ideals. 

Steve spat up but managed to choke down another sip. His vision remained blurry. When he looked at Ross and Pierce watching him, their faces changed, malformed, and transformed into wicked parodies. They weren’t vampires or monsters, but beautiful men – men who had it all and whose greed expanded to want more and more until they could never be satiated. Immortality and the ability to pursue more power shined like a halo around them – they were the darkest of angels. Godsent to change the world yet they only bent it to their needs. 

Steve gagged as he finished the bottle and Clint staggered away. “It’s done.” Clint handed the empty bottle to one of the other agents in the room. He rubbed at his eyes and stared at Steve. “I’m done. I want my family. I’m done.”

Ross only nodded to agent who brought in the bottle of blood. The man escorted Clint out of the cell. 

Steve shivered in his chains, his body wanting to rebel. He swallowed compulsively. The taste of blood and bile mixed in his throat until he retched. Blood dribbled out of his mouth as he tried to hold his body still. 

“Hold on, Captain.” Pierce paced in front of him. “Keep that in and we might even let Agent Barton leave the building. Unharmed.”

Steve tried. He stared at the middle distance. He listened to the voice of his mother, telling him to never let up, never stay down. He felt the soft and tender touch of Tony, taking care of him that first time – after they mated, and Steve only wanted to die. Steve clung to his memories, to the strength in them, but even he could not fight off the strength and power of his own biology. His stomach convulsed, and he choked and clamped his mouth shut but it didn’t matter. Blood flooded out of his nostrils, out of his mouth, he seized as it covered him in blood and bile. Tears stung his eyes, flowed down his cheeks to mix with the blood. He couldn’t breathe. Snot and blood stained his lips and chin. He hung onto the chains and wept. 

“Very good, Captain. Very good.” Pierce clapped. He stood in front of Steve and applauded his failure. The rage of hatred and disgust ran through Steve and he strained in his chains even as his stomach roiled and heaved. Pierce ignored him. “Thaddeus, my dear friend, the stench in here is terrible. Perhaps some cleanup is in order?”

“Agreed,” Ross said and turned to the hulk of an agent. “Get the hose. And the lines, please. Punishment is the best way to get that serum active.”

From the dark shadows to the cell, a hose was pulled from the wall. Before Steve finished shuddering, the water blasted him. The cold shot at him and tore away at his flesh. His wounds started to bleed again. The agent pointed the nozzle at his face and Steve braced himself, but the rush of water pounded at him and he gasped for breath. Water got into his mouth and nose. He battled for air as the water cascaded over him. He raised his head, looking straight up at his shackled hands only to have the hose directed at his face. He turned away as much as he could. His body instinctively tried to curl in on itself, but the bindings imprisoned him and let the water slam into his frame. The frigid liquid ate away at his resolve, poured over him, an unwanted memory freezing him in time. He quaked and begged the Almighty to stop, to save him. A long time ago, a different life time, Steve witnessed the worst of human beings in a war that ravaged the lands. It also killed off what faith and hope Steve had had at time, but he always came around, he always believed. Now as he swung on the adamantium chains and the water’s violent torrent jetted over him, his hopes dissipated, and his mind latched on to the only comfort he knew in these new and horrible times.

_Tony_

Steve wished he could see him, one more time. Wished he hadn’t wasted so much time worried about getting to work on time or concerned about beating the traffic, so he left Tony earlier than he should have. He longed for all that time, bits here and there. He wanted to get them back so that he might package them up and relive them. 

The water stopped. Steve quaked as the cold water dripped down his naked body. He groaned in the back of his throat. A respite didn’t last long as Ross commanded ‘the lines’ to be activated. Something hissed above him and Steve raised his gaze to study the chains. The chains altered, and Steve cringed, waiting for them to go back into rack position, but they didn’t. Instead he heard a crackling. A blue arc of electricity and Steve closed his eyes as the bolts crawled down the lines within the chains and found ground. His body went rigid and his back arched in agony as the streaks of artificial lightning struck him. 

Everything went white even with his eyes closed. The breath in his lungs stopped, his muscles paralyzed. Excruciating pain – every nerve sang out in unbearable pain – so severe his tears scorched his eyes. He wanted to scream, to cry out, but no noise escaped his mouth. The white blinded him as the pain took over, until he was nothing more than a raw nerve.

_Don’t give up._

The words echoed in his head. 

_Don’t you dare give up._

How could he not when Tony was dead, flayed away on the roof of the Triskelion? The vestiges of his voice meant nothing but wishes and lost hopes. In his mind, he saw Tony then, standing in front of him through the white-out pain. Tony reached up with his wounded hands, his chest flayed open, his eyes mere sockets. Those beautiful eyes that never rested with any color – gone. The white lightning came from Tony then. The blaze of light radiated from his wounds, from his undying body, but it didn’t harm. It didn’t hurt Steve. It only warmed him; it only protected him. Like a cloak, it sheathed him against the onslaught, against their torture. He surrendered to it as it bathed him. He succumbed to the white lightning. One word parted his lips.

“Tony.”


	5. Chapter 5

**24 hours earlier**

A decade of darkness. Throughout the years, Tony yearned for moments in the sun. He’d stolen them, much to the chagrin of his coven mistress and his human mate. Every now and again, Tony would peek out during the day, gazing at the light and the world that lived around him from which he was forever excluded. It sapped him of his energy, sent spears of pain through his head, and tapped into something long lost in his stone heart. When he called Steve his sunshine, he wasn’t lying, for being with Steve offered him a glimpse of the outside, the alien world forever forbidden to him. It hurt. To steal those moments, it hurt. His eyes ached afterwards, and he suffered from an almost paralyzing weakness. He only knew not to stay in the sun. It would drain away his energy. He never knew what else might happen.

Now he knew.

While in front of Steve, the V-Corps agents acquiesced to Tony’s needs, but then they’d beaten and stabbed Steve. Tony had protested, screamed for them to stop, but the V-Corp agents dragged him away with a blanket over his head, supposedly for protection – but Tony suspected to hide the evidence of what’d they’d done to his human mate. They locked him in vampire strength shackles and kept him in just enough of the growing light of the van to keep him weak. By the time they arrived at the Triskelion, it was night and Tony had grown stronger. They’d needed prods and seven different V-Corp agents to escort him into the building. He demanded to know where Steve was, yelled to be in contact with Fury, and threatened each and every one of them he came in contact with, but it made no difference. They’d processed him as if his rantings bored them. 

He ended up in a small cell no bigger than a broom closet with his arms and legs chained to the floor. He sat there, desperately worried for Steve’s welfare, and increasingly hungry. That latter made no sense. He’d eaten his fill so many times over the last few days it was ridiculous. By all accounts he was bloated with blood. Yet, every part of him tingled with want and it shamed him. Here he was imprisoned, his love and mate wounded and unaccounted for, and all he could think of was the deliciousness of his next meal. He thought about attacking the next V-Corps agent that walked in the door. How delightful it would be to sink his fangs into his throat, but then the memory of what they planned to do to him flittered across his mind like a macabre butterfly. Cut out his feeding gland, remove his fangs, transform him into some kind of mindless zombie. 

He wished they would try – he planned to fight them, to resist with every molecule in his undying body. The thought of losing his mind, of living his undead life in a stupor like an automaton, sickened him. It would mean the loss of everything. There would be no way to save Steve. How had it all come to this? Tony recalled how his mother told him stories of the evil vampires. How his father lectured him to stay away from the vampire communities. Even with the treaty, vampires posed a danger to all humans, and their contaminated filth shouldn’t be allowed in any city according to Howard. Once though, Tony had ventured to their part of the city while he was at MIT. 

One Friday night when the university planned a three-day weekend for Homecoming or some idiotic reason, Tony had goaded Rhodey to go to one of the illegal Blood Dens out in Vampire Row. Rhodey, always the straight-laced guy, shook his head and refused. At the time Tony was all of fifteen and getting into a Blood Den was hard enough. Being underage made it impossible. “Come on, Rhodey. You’re a killjoy, you know that? I think I might go insane this weekend and you’re sucking all the fun out of it already.”

“Sucking is not something I want to have any part of,” Rhodey had muttered as he cleaned up his already spotless dorm room. 

“Just a little peek. We won’t even go in,” Tony whined and flopped on Rhodey’s perfectly made bed.

Rhodey tucked his shirts into the drawers in the small walk in closet. “How do you even know where a Blood Den is? I thought those things were illegal.”

“In all fifty states, my friend. But I got a lead on one. Come on! Don’t tell me that you’re not curious!” Tony had said and batted his eyelashes. Of course, the latter didn’t sway Rhodey at all, but maybe curiosity had. They ended up down near the industrial part of Boston where Tony could smell the salt of the water and something metallic in the air. 

Rhodey was jittery and scanned the area like they might be attacked at any moment by a rabid vampire. Tony had laughed and told him that vampires couldn’t get rabies; they’re already dead. That was when they bumped into a vampire. The vamp must have only been in his late teens when he was turned, but he seemed older in his maturity. He agreed to escort them to the Blood Den.

“For a taste,” the vampire said and smiled.

That grin ate away at Tony’s resolve as he watched the hunger steal over the young vampire’s face. It wasn’t even for him. It was for Rhodey. Tony had interrupted the vampire. “He’s not interested. He didn’t even want to go to the Blood Den.”

“More’s the pity,” the vampire said. He backed down – almost instantaneously – which had surprised Tony. By all accounts, vampires were villainous and would attack and take what they wanted without permission. They were deviant and monstrous. But the vampire they met that night seemed genuinely curious about them and what they were up to. He had agreed – for nothing – to take them to the Blood Den. He’d asked them about their college life and his eyes sparkled as they described classes, dorm life, and even cafeteria food. 

“Yes,” the vampire said. “I hated the cafeteria food, too.” 

“You were in college?” Rhodey asked. 

“Long time ago, yeah,” the vampire said and shrugged his shoulders. He had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “Feels like it was just yesterday, but it wasn’t. Not at all.”

“You didn’t finish?” Tony concluded. They walked the long block in the dark. The street lamps were insufficient to guide their way.

The vampire halted in front of a warehouse. “No, I didn’t. I was turned my second week of Freshman year.”

Tony wanted to know why. Had he been in an accident and a vampire turned him out of good will, or had it been a killing that turned into something more sinister. Before he mustered the courage to ask, the vampire pointed to the building behind them.

“The Blood Den,” he said. He started away, with no intention of going in with them. He walked a few paces with his head down and then turned. “Don’t go in. It’s nothing you need to see, and everything you desire. Don’t go in.” 

Tony suspected that the vampire confessed how his moment of turning had happened with those simple words of warning. He heeded the warning and took Rhodey’s advice as well. They ended up at a bar, Tony drinking to his underage heart’s content. Rhodey had confessed watching Tony drink that night had been one of the good things, though he didn’t agree with it. At least, under Rhodey’s watchful eyes, Tony would wake up the next day – still alive but maybe not as well. He’d stayed away from Blood Dens then, until they became something of a necessity of his life.

As a vampire he’d roamed the streets looking for signs of the illegal dens so that he might get a taste of human blood rather than the cold pig’s blood in the coven fridge. He shouldn’t think about blood and food; it just made the wild hunger that grew more distracting and worse. Tony should have confessed his state to Natasha, though Thor recognized it. He’d suspected something was up with Tony’s maturity as a vampire because of the serum. From Tony’s readings and his father’s notes, the serum not only perfected Steve’s metabolism but also sped it up. That was one of the reasons Tony drank more often than other vampires. 

Except for the tiny bit of study he did while they had been in hiding at his safe house, Tony hadn’t spent a lot of time concerned with how the serum worked with his preternatural physiology. Bruce probably had, but Tony steered clear of it first because it was biology and Tony wasn’t a biologist by any stretch of the imagination, and second because part of him wanted to deny the differences in his vampire body with other vampires. He wanted to be accepted as one of the coven, not singled out. Sure, as a human he enjoyed the spotlight, but vampire covens were centuries old and showing up different rocked the boat in ways that signaled danger.

He should have considered the possibilities of what was happening to him. Was it just greed on his part or did the serum in him change him? Make him need more? Or transform his supernaturality to something else? 

Aggravated and hating the dark that had become his day, Tony wrenched at the chains, but they wouldn’t give way. Twisting his wrists, he attempted to slide out of the shackles but that proved impossible as well. The door to his cell opened while he worked on the locking mechanism that had been cleverly concealed under the shackle. 

“Don’t bother. I told Steve the same thing, but he ignored me and still tried.”

Tony jerked, startled at the voice. “Clint?” He squinted as Clint walked to the side of the cell. The pitiful recessed lights barely illuminated anything in the small cell. “What the hell? Get me out of here. They have Steve.”

Clint stepped into the light and Tony knew- knew at that moment that Clint had been the one to deliver the virus to his AI. That Clint – of all people – took down his sophisticated computer system and hacked into JARVIS. He recalled seeing Clint in the Security Center. Tony had thought he was just helping Happy out. Shit, what happened to Happy? What if they trace it back to Pepper? How will she get to safety?

“You have to understand,” Clint said. His voice hushed in the dim light. “I had no other choice. They have my family.”

“Your family?” Nothing computed, and he felt as if his brain had been hacked up and spit out. 

“I told Steve, but I don’t think he understood. Maybe he did. I don’t know. I didn’t have enough time before Ross came in with Rumlow,” Clint said and placed a hand over his eyes. “God, what did I do?” He dropped his hand. “You have to understand, Tony. I am devoted to Steve. He had it right, I get that. But I had to trade my principles for my family. I had to save them.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You could have come to me, you could have gone to him!” Tony clanked the chains around his wrists. “Are you looking for absolution? Are you looking for me to tell you it’s okay that you did this?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Clint rubbed at his eyes and turned away, not facing Tony.

“How long? How long have you been faking it?” Tony growled at him. What would they do to Steve? How would they make him suffer for his betrayal of the V-Corps? “Have you ever been anything but a liar?”

Clint strode right up to Tony, leaned down, and stuck his face right up to Tony’s face. “What the fuck do you even know? I have children. I have a wife. They depend on me. Do you think, for even a second, mating with Natasha stopped me from loving them?” 

“Why did you do it then?” Tony hissed. “If you loved them so much, why the hell did you mate with Natasha? All I can think is that you and Ross and Pierce were playing the long game. You mated with her and infiltrated her coven. They used you, Barton, and they will throw you away.”

“Or they tried,” Clint replied. “I was to kill her. You know. My job was to go to Russia and eliminate her. She’s a powerful coven mistress and a lot of other covens follow her ideas. I saw another way.”

“You mated with her for what? To try and turn her to your thinking?” Tony asked as he worked at the lock again.

“Maybe,” Clint said. He had moved away from Tony, but still stood where Tony could see his tortured expression in profile. “I wanted to see if there was a way to bring her around. To see if we could have vampires and humans living together peacefully. Not with conclaves and separate and unequal. But really try. I saw the wars as a kid. Learned about them. But I wanted to make a difference. The conclave set up wasn’t working. I thought this might make a difference.”

“And did it?”

Clint laughed, low and painfully as if he’d been running too long, and the chuckle grappled to even get out of his lungs. “It could have. I didn’t know really about Nat. Not really. Not who she was. Is. But then they found Captain America and I was assigned to his unit. Everything started to look clearer. Laura, my wife, always knew about Nat. She accepted it. Not without reservations, but she did.”

“Why?” Tony asked. “Because you’re some superhero?”

“No, because she wanted things to be different, too. Her brother was a vampire and was killed by an over enthusiastic V-Corps agent.” He shrugged. “Together, we thought we could change things from the inside out.”

“And now you’ve done it,” Tony remarked. “Now you’ve really changed things haven’t you.”

“This wasn’t my intention,” Clint said. It should have been said with conviction. Tony heard it at the start of the sentence but it petered out, worn and feeble.

Tony struggled against the chains, getting onto his knees. Screaming he said, “Wasn’t your intention? What the fuck did you think would happen when you infiltrated my AI? When you gave away our safe house?”

“I thought I would save my family, that’s what, Stark. Do you get it? Do you understand? They have my boy and my little girl! My wife is pregnant. She’s pregnant, and I needed to save them. All of them. Paint me as the traitor, I don’t care. I did it to save my family.” Tears glistened on his cheeks.

“The point is you didn’t have to. You could have come to us, to me. To Steve, for God’s sake.” Tony sank down and bowed his head. “What have you done, Barton?”

“I did what I had to do. They’re my family.” Clint said and then stood silently – the darkness around them formed a circle, a barrier against the rest of the world. Tears ran down his face. He didn’t sob or make a sound. “I tried to save Nat long ago. I tried my best. I couldn’t. Not when it meant my babies.”

Tony sank down, defeated. To save his children, Clint had acted as any father would. Maybe there could have been another way, but should Tony blame him? Could he? Tony only shook his head. “Just leave, Barton. Make sure they don’t kill him. Okay?” They might take away Tony’s glands, but at least Steve might survive.

“They don’t plan on killing him,” Clint murmured. “They plan on making sure he lives a long time.” His words were whispered. 

Tony grimaced and curled further in on himself. Of course, Steve and his blood – the serum – held so many keys, and Steve’s had always been the only genetic make-up that had ever worked with the serum – ever. So they needed him to stay alive. But how alive and what kind of life? 

Without looking up, Tony said, “Just promise me, after I’m gone, that you find a way to save him.”

Clint moved then. He walked over to Tony and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can.”

He left without waiting for Tony to reply. Tony had wanted to ask about Happy, about Thor and Natasha, but those words were ash in in his mouth. In the dark, Tony waited and wondered how much longer until they came and tore out his feeding glands to turn him into some mockery of his preternatural self. He didn’t ask for this life. This life found him. Stane and his greed twisted Tony’s life until Yinsen had only one choice but to save Tony with a kiss of death. That’s what the human community called it – the kiss of death. He had been terrified as a child of vampires. What they could do to you, how they harvested blood from humans and left the dry husk. As an adult, he found no evidence of vampire cruelty, none more than a typical human. He surveyed at the small cell, at the darkness. At his life that had disappeared. 

When the door cranked open again, Tony found himself numb and ready for them to slice away at his throat and take out his glands. A group of V-Corps agents walked into the room, Rumlow at their head. His eyes were shuttered and blank – like any dull-witted minion. Several of the agents brought out their shock batons and held them toward Tony as Rumlow bent down to unlock the chains. Tony jerked away, trying to kick at the man but one of the agents swung hard and true, hitting Tony in his chest with the shock baton. It ached through him. 

“Fuck!” Tony screamed, and his body quaked in response. He settled as Rumlow went back to his duty.

“If you resist, then it’s going to be worse for you and worse for your boy.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Tony said. “You’re not going to stop hurting him if I promise to be good.”

“Probably not,” Rumlow said. “But I do go there next to help out. What do you want me to tell him? That you fought like a good little soldier? Or that we sliced you up and dried out your decaying organs in the sun, or that maybe you’re still alive – well as much as an undead vampire can be. You want to give him hope to survive. You have to give me something to work with here.”

Tony saw no point in making in easy for him – so he battled and struggled every step of the way. When they released the chains from the link to the floor, Tony launched himself at the closest agents. His vampire strength gave him the advantage but the fact the he was in his boxers with nothing else on, made him an easy target for their batons and for their spikes. The spikes were especially designed to torment vampires. Gloves with embedded small wooden spikes at the knuckles and the back of the hand were standard issue for V-Corps agents. Steve never wore them. Neither had Clint, that Tony saw. 

Though Tony was sure that they had their orders not to kill him, he still had to stay away from the small wooden stakes. It baffled him why a wooden stake would kill him but not an iron or metal one. Thor had told him once that it had to do with the ways of magic and that wood from trees connected them to nature while metal and the like were never alive. It made no sense to Tony, then or now. He dove away from a flurry of fists, but one got him in the side and he felt the poison of the wood in his torso. The wound wasn’t deadly, but it weakened and brought him to his knees.

“Now, you want to stop, or do we give you a few more of those?” Rumlow said. 

Fits of weakness tremored through him but he scratched his way back to fighting them, gathering what strength he had,, not letting them get their way. He tried to speak but it only came out as a growl. He stumbled up to his feet again and another blow hit him in the face, the spike going through his cheek and he tasted the wood. He crumpled. 

“There you go.” Rumlow directed the agents to get him to his feet. 

Tony staggered and flailed, trying to get them away. It meant nothing. Another fist hit him on his back, close to the center of his chest. It would have killed him if it struck true. He gagged on the blood in his throat and it drooled out of his mouth. Blood tears gathered in his eyes. His only desire to stay alive for Steve withered as his strength poured out of him with the blood he’d drank from Steve. He swayed and faltered. They picked him up and dragged him by his arms. He choked up more blood as the wood poison worked its way through his system. The taste of it warmed his mouth. As a vampire he didn’t need to breathe, but somehow it throttled his throat and cursed him. 

His mind wavered as he fought to stay conscious. The poison of the wooden barbs ate their way through his system. He reeled with vertigo and the corridors spun around him with their concrete walls and fluorescent lighting. He squinted as red blood dripped out of his tear sockets. They were going to slice his throat and steal the only thing that kept him sane. His feeding glands, once gone, would leave him in limbo to cross barren lands. Tony shivered as they rode the elevator to the mad clinicians who would harvest his glands and fangs. Rumlow nodded to his men and one of them slashed another wooden spike into Tony’s arm, just enough so that he would grunt in pain and the sickness would spread. 

The elevator ride took forever, and Tony almost dozed as the pain sent him into a blurry reality, filled with fog and agony. When the elevator rang the floor and they hauled him out by his arms, the touch of dawn in the sky pierced his vision like a laser. His mind refused to piece together exactly what was happening. The roof, the sun breaking through the early clouds, the fact that the agents were towing him across the roof of the Triskelion. It made no sense to his infected brain. 

“Wha-?” 

“Time to pay your dues, Stark,” Rumlow said. 

The wood toxin in his system dulled his senses, but the sun’s brightening rays shot through him as sure as an arrow to the heart. He thrashed then, mustering enough energy to lurch away from his captors and totter and fall to his knees in the middle of the roof top. The glare from the daylight hitting the cityscape scorched his retinas and he whined at the feel of it, like hot pokers in his eyeballs. He shielded his eyes with his arm and tried again to get to his feet. The hot roof seared the soles on his feet and he tumbled to his knees, then hit his chin against the roof tile. 

“Stupid bastard,” Rumlow said as he hooked his arm around Tony’s elbow and pulled him over to the side. “Save your energy for what’s coming next.”

Tony wanted to ask what. What could they possibly be doing? But words turned to dust in his dried throat. He’d once asked Steve what happened to vampires taken to the Triskelion. Steve paled and refused to explain. He only said _you don’t want to know_. Surely getting his fangs and glands removed would be the worst they could do. Surely. 

Rumlow laughed at him and rolled him over so that he saw what was in front of him. 

_A cross._

Tony frowned and closed his eyes. The growing day lapped up his strength. He groaned and started to crawl back to the roof entrance. Rumlow caught his neck. “Oh no, not so fast. You have some place to be.” He tossed Tony to the hard roof and then stepped over him. “Bring the skewers.”

_Skewers? Cross? What the fuck?_

Tony looked up then after faceplanting on the roof and saw a glimmer of someone else. Not too distant another figure, a person materialized out of the steaming haze around him. The person – no, the skeleton – hung on the cross, crucified. Some ragged flesh hung like dirty clothes off the boney frame. The hair blew in the light breeze and then the thing – it moved. It turned its head toward Tony. No eyes, no nose, no lips, but long fangs identified it as a vampire. Somehow, some supernatural force helped it make a noise, so inhuman and pitiful – sounding so much like prey being devoured by a vicious predator that Tony shrank away from it. 

_No. No. No._

Gathering up his strength, Tony flung himself toward the side of the building. He would rather die by his own accord and his own choosing than by their hands. Or live in that horrifying state of hell. The sun and the wood contaminant in his system took him down long before any of the agents even bothered to move. They knew what they were doing. They’d done this so many times before. And then he thought of Steve – Steve knew about this horror. He knew the nightmare and he never confessed to Tony. Part of him hated Steve at that moment. Hated him because he never warned Tony, never told him what humans were actually capable of – but then it faded as he realized that Steve had protected Tony time and again. Keeping him away from the V-Corps wandering eyes, stopped them from trailing his interactions with the human world. Who knew what other things Steve had done in his time as a V-Corps member. Had he ever been assigned this duty? To nail a vampire to a cross?

The V-Corps agents stood and watched him flounder about, trying to get to the side of the building. They mocked and laughed at him. He dug his nails into the asphalt of the roof and attempted to crawl, but he had no strength left. Nothing. His body felt dried out already. One of the agents bent down and grabbed his arm. Another took his other arm and they hoisted him to his feet. The hot roof burnt the soles of his feet as they marched him to the cross. He tugged and thrashed but nothing stopped them. The sun rose and as it did, every second bleached out his power, his strength ebbed away, until he was almost grateful when they knelt him in front of the cross, his back to the wood. 

Rumlow smacked his hand to Tony’s forehead and pushed him up against the wooden cross. One of the agents standing behind the cross, wrapped an arm around the vertical beam and Tony’s throat, keeping him in place. Each of Tony’s arms, limp and lifeless from the poison and the sun effects, was positioned on the crossbar. He growled at them. “Fucking stop. No. Stop!” It did nothing to slow them down. It only seemed to encourage them. 

Agents held his arms onto the cross and other agents used large mallets to ram large iron spikes into his palms. Rumlow laughed as they worked. Tony’s brain roiled and scrambled, trying to make sense of what was happening. Someone shrieked, and he realized it was him. He let the sound come, exploding out of his mouth as the pain encompassed him. He screeched as the pain shot through him, wished his undead state saved him from the agony – but it did not. Each swing of the hammer lanced through his arms and he screamed. Rumlow stared down at Tony. 

Another slam against his palms and the spikes drove home. Tony cried out, knowing the blood tears streaked his face. He gulped and gasped unneeded air. The whirl of the air in his lungs expanded and hurt from the inside out like a firestorm in his chest. The arm around his neck tightened and he gurgled and choked. 

Over the hysteria roaring in his ears, Tony heard Rumlow directing his agents, “Get his ankles anchored to the roof.” He kicked at something on the ground. “The damned shackles are right there. Get him locked in.” 

Iron cuffs tightened around his legs at the ankle. The weakness sickened Tony brought a rising miasma into his brain until a delirious fever shuddered through him. The arm around his throat dropped away, but then someone clamped a leather collar around his neck that must have been linked to the cross. It forced his head upright so that he could not escape staring at the sun as it rose in the sky. He shut his eyes, but his lids felt like sandpaper. No more tears wet his eyes as the sun’s rays beat through his lids.

A kick to his side and Tony opened his eyes to see Rumlow standing over him. “I’m gonna see your boy after this. What say I tell him how you’re doing?” He flicked a long iron skewer in his hand, twirling it over his knuckles and then catching it before it fell to the roof. The glint of the metal shined in the sunlight and seared through Tony’s brain every time the reflection hit his eyes. 

Rumlow stood there and waited for Tony to answer, to tell him that he should have Steve worry about him. Instead, Tony rasped out, “Go to hell, you motherfucker.”

Rumlow only snickered in response and then jabbed the skewer with a quick, stabbing motion into Tony’s chest. He gasped as the iron nail went through him, piercing him into place. Rumlow gestured for one of the other agents to come over and hand him the mallet. He pounded it in. Every stroke of the hammer was another agony, another step into hell. Tony didn’t need to breathe, he needed no air, but somehow being speared through stole his energy until he gulped and jerked against his bonds. Rumlow lingered for a moment, watching Tony. He smirked and arched his brow as he bent down to look Tony in the eyes.

“I’ve watched this hundreds of times. Seen one vamp after another dry out here. Their skin flays off, their eyes melt away. The only thing that’s left is the fangs. That’s all you are. A godless creature who doesn’t deserve to live,” Rumlow said. “And you know how many times your boy ended up intervening? How many times he fought against this punishment for vampires? So many. It’s a wonder we didn’t know sooner where his real loyalties lied.” 

Rumlow stood up and smiled once more. “Let’s go.”

Without another word they left him, crucified in the middle of a hot roof. Alone. 

No. Not truly alone. The other vampire on the cross next to him, the skeletal thing that moved and _looked_ in his direction stared with orbless eyes at him. He turned away, as much as he could considering the collar around his neck, fixing him to the cross. 

In all the days he’d spent as a vampire, Tony had been lucky to never be trapped outdoors for too long during the day. Even when he escaped the terrorists, he’d done it at night and Rhodey had discovered him in the desert. It felt like a million years ago now. Rhodey wasn’t around to save him; he hadn’t seen his old friend in months. He wished, he prayed to the unknown gods of the dead that Steve might somehow be coming to save him, but he knew through his blood soaked tears he was only fooling himself. Tony tried to pull off the wooden cross, but the sun stole his energy, ate away at the last fibers of strength, and left him powerless. He couldn’t hope to save himself let alone Steve.

As the rays dried his lips and the taste of blood filled his mouth, Tony squinted as the world started to blur around him. His eyes. God, his eyes! Every blink scraped the cornea raw. The glistening sun against the tarmac of the roof top baked his retinas and he swore he could feel the fine cones and rods of the back of his eyes flake off as the vitreous humor dried. He moaned as he pulled and tugged against the nails impaling him to the wooden beams. He refused to die like this. He refused to become like that thing hanging on the cross not two meters from him – still alive. It shifted at any sound he made. 

_Make it go away!_

Tony grunted, more determined to free himself, but with every motion, his body failed him. It faltered and shuddered against the movement. He tried to grip the nails in his hands, thinking to yank against them, but as his fingers closed into fists, the skin on his knuckles dropped away. He clawed at his palms, trying to get a good grip. Every motion, every small movement flayed away more of his skin under the harsh light of the sun. He struggled again, but he couldn’t grasp the nail and the sun ate away at what little strength he mustered. Tony cried out, but only bubbles of blood dripped down out of his mouth. His lips wouldn’t completely close around his teeth. The blood flowed down his partial chin onto his chest where the iron nail jabbed him. 

Every moment in the sun meant another piece of him destroyed. If his hands lost flesh fast enough, then he would be free, but that made no sense because the thing on the cross next to him was still bond. It opened its lipless mouth at him and a stick like tongue flailed. He gagged, and more blood burbled out. No matter how hard he tried his efforts were fruitless. The sun shined down and peeled away his flesh leaving the muscle exposed, but soon that burned. His nerves screamed as the agony set him in a haze of never-ending pain. 

As the sun rose higher in the sky, its heat set everything afire, though he did not burn. It felt as if someone lowered him into a pot of boiling water. He wanted to climb out, to scurry up the sides of the pot, and seek freedom. Yet with each attempt he became weaker and weaker still until he finally allowed the steaming, bubbling water to cover him. The sun’s rays liquified him, and his body slowly melted to the ground. He didn’t know how many hours he suffered. At one point, Tony felt something on the floor of the roof move and rotate. The cross followed the sun so that he always stared into the maw of hell. The blood of his tears slid down what was left of his face, running rivers down the remnant of his muscles and ligaments. His chest hollowed out. His organs petrified. Yet he stayed conscious. He begged in quiet, wordless prayers to be set free. He was a godless thing, a creature of the supernatural. Forsaken by God, Tony’s prays drifted around him like a fog of toxins mocking him. No soul answered him. The sun, the light of the world, the source of all life on Earth, hated him. It loathed him and wished to destroy him. It received its wish as his jaw opened, and his fangs grew long. Nothing was left of the human that had been Tony Stark. He saw everything with no eyes, felt all the pain with no nerves, heard his own cries with no ears. 

Tony stood on the rooftop, staring down at the skeletal form that had been his shell, his casing. The vampire that hung on the cross next to him was standing next to him. Her hair plaited in a long dark braid, her eyes as dark as jungle rivers. 

A wraith.

He recalled how Thor told him that Loki would spend his centuries in stasis. When Tony asked what it had meant, Thor only flinched and mournfully said, “As a wraith. Do everything you can not to be condemned to the life as a wraith. Once there, you may never return.”

Tony hadn’t asked what any of it meant, but now he teetered between worlds. His vampire self – crucified and tormented – balancing between life and death, and his newly spirited wraith form. He couldn’t leave. He was sentenced to stay with his body, anchored to his suffering. The vampire near him moaned and cried. The anguish had all but defined her now. In his insubstantial form he peered at the world around him, but it wasn’t daylight that greeted him. The whole of the Earth throbbed and oscillated with the lost figures of the dead. Were they all wraiths like him, trapped between life and death? 

Purgatory. 

Here the souls of the dead purified themselves of the transgressions and sins from their lives. They suffered in the bleak lands before him, wanting, yearning to pass on but trapped in a state of endless misery until at last released. Instinctively, Tony knew he would never be able to leave. His undead body was ruined but never truly dead. He was an immortal after all. Vampires died only by a wooden stake through the heart and he imagined that it was due the poison slicing away at the wraith form and freeing it from the tether to the real world. He remained anchored, secured to watch and to feel his physical form decay. His flesh curled up in the sun like dried meat and slipped off his bones. Each loss sent shooting pains through him like a drill into his forehead. The iron skewer through his chest burrowed deep within him leaving him vacuous and empty. His heart had ached with love once. The profundity of that love surprised him and fed him. It had given meaning to his immortal life. It was over now. He wanted to reach out and apologize. To tell Steve to find a way to live on, but his body and spirit failed him. He existed but did not. He never said goodbye. He never had the chance. 

After what seemed like an eternity, but had only been the day, the sun dwindled and fell into the night. Twilight welcomed the vampires on the roof. Tony watched as the wraith next to the other vampire swayed in the coming dark as if dancing to unheard music. He only turned to his body, so broken, so decayed and desiccated. What was left was a dried-out husk, bones and little flesh hung on the wooden cross. Nothing about the thing kneeling bound to the cross looked at all like Tony. It was a dead thing. And he was cursed to it, for all time. As he stood and watched the night city come to life, the door to the building opened and his assailants returned but without Rumlow. They wheeled a gurney with them. 

“Be careful,” the leader said. He pointed to the other vampire. “Stake that one. We don’t need her anymore.”

One of the six agents walked over to the weak, skeletal creature on the cross, pulled out a wooden stake, and then removed the iron stake in the heart. He slid the wooden stake into the vampire’s dried form. The wraith standing guard howled though the agents didn’t seem to hear her. A fierce wind blew, and her phantom simply dissipated from the Earth as if she’d never existed at all. The air around Tony’s ghostly form chilled but the wind didn’t affect him. It died away.

The leader pointed to Tony’s body. “Put the wooden stake in its mouth. Then get it on the gurney.”

Tony attempted to touch them, to stop them, but none of his actions registered. The agents efficiently did their job. They put a wooden stake into his open jaw and then strapped his mouth closed with a quick snap gag over the small stake. They had to be careful not to disturb the rotting flesh. One of the agents cursed as pieces of Tony’s face slipped away. Tony only closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see this, but with every touch and every moment, everything that the agents did to him – he could feel and experience. The taste of poison in his mouth choked him. 

When he opened his eyes, Tony saw that the agents had removed his body from the cross. Instead of stabbing him with a wooden stake, they’d only removed the iron nails. His body fell forward, a dead thing that somehow still moved. It started to crawl toward Tony and he felt a lurch in his stomach at the horror of it. The agents ignored Tony’s body’s faulty motions and grabbed it.

“Careful,” the leader said. “They have a tendency to lose parts at this stage.”

One of the agents grimaced but they shifted their motions, becoming more cognizant of their strength. Not tender, not gentle in any way, but careful. 

Even as they placed his body on the gurney, Tony stifled the tears threatening. How did it all come to this? His tortured body being used by these madman? He thought of Steve, wherever Steve was, how he promised to save him. His phantom body was useless in this state. Once the agents finished using his physical form, they would dispose of him and Tony’s spirit with it. He couldn’t even leave his body. Somehow he was tied to it, forever, until it was put out of its misery. He tried to concentrate on what he should do as they moved his body to the elevator and then through the corridors of the Triskelion. Tony realized they were on the laboratory floors. This is what they planned. Take out his glands and fangs – and then what? Allow him to drink pigs blood to heal? Is this how it was done? Weakened and lifeless, the animated corpse couldn’t fight off the attack. 

They rolled his body to a pair of clinicians who checked the state of decomposition. “Very nearly complete,” One of them said – he was tall, bald, and peckish looking. With gloves on he moved Tony’s head and lifted up the jaw to examine the neck and what was left of Tony’s inner organs. “Glands are atrophied. Not sure we will get the response we need.”

The other scientist leaned down and took forceps to peel away what skin and muscle that clung to the glands. “No, look, we still have the root of the gland in perfect health. It should motivate the corpse.”

“Well, gentlemen?” 

Tony startled and looked up to see Ross standing at the entrance to the laboratory. He looked refreshed as if he’d just started his day in the middle of the night. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. 

“Tell me, what’s the verdict?”

The first clinician checked with the second, and with a quiet nod, said, “We believe the specimen is ready for the next step.”

“You’re sure this will work? We’ve tried several other vampires. None of their glands were affected at all.” Ross glowered at them.

The second clinician agreed, but then added, “This specimen is different. It’s been exposed for years. Though we can’t verify the number, we believe longer than five years. Most of the specimens at this stage the root of the feeding glands has started to wither. This specimen’s root glands are in very good condition.”

Ross assessed them and then grinned. He looked like a demented jack o’ lantern. “Then let us begin. We don’t have much time left.”

The clinicians both nodded and something gleeful glanced over their expression. Tony blanched. They would remove his glands now and do whatever Frankensteinian research they wanted to do. Would that release Tony to the winds? Would it be enough? He wanted nothing to do with it. He wanted to be gone now. He wanted to hold Steve in his arms again and beg forgiveness. If Steve had never gone to that Blood Den in the first place, then Tony would never have taken him – mated him. Now Steve was condemned because of Tony.

It surprised Tony then when they moved the gurney out of the laboratories. Ross headed the procession. Six agents, two clinical researchers, and the undead corpse on the gurney with a phantom trailing behind. It all seemed so ridiculous that Tony wanted to laugh, but he knew if he did he would only cry so he followed (but had no other choice) and they ended up in the lowest bowels of the Triskelion. The prison level.

_What the hell?_

Ross gestured to the corridor. “This way. This way. Don’t waste time. I want this to work.”

They maneuvered the gurney down the stretch of the corridor until they ended up outside one of the prison cells. Ross waited for the V-Corps agent stationed outside the prison cell door to key in the code and then he stepped into the dark room. Everyone except the guard outside the door followed him. 

It was a small cell, but not as small as the one that they had held Tony in when they first brought him to the Triskelion. The room was dark, except for a puddle of light in the center where a figure chained to the ceiling hung. Too many people were in the room with the gurney so it felt tight, closed in. The figure with his back to the door had scars along his back as if he’d been struck by lightning. Tony identified the Lichtenberg figures, fractals of the strike marring the skin. It twisted around the torso, branching out like a strange tree along the wounds on his chest. There were other wounds, older that looked like they were burns, and a stab wound in his abdomen that hadn’t healed. When Tony looked up, his soul ached and his hopes dropped. 

_Steve._

Some of the agents looked everywhere but at the tormented figure hanging in the center of the room. Others gazed at Steve as if they were bored with the whole proceeding. Ross studied him, checking, as if to mark off the wounds to ensure they were deep enough, bad enough, painful enough. “Dear doctors, I love that you’ve essentially mimicked lightning strikes. Look at the patterns.”

“We actually didn’t expect it,” one of the clinicians said but shut up again when Ross side-eyed him. 

Ross continued as if the researcher hadn’t spoken at all. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

“What’s the rush?” Alexander Pierce entered the already cramped cell. 

Tony glanced up at Steve to see if he was conscious or still alive. He detected the smallest amount of breathing, but he failed to figure out if his love was aware of anything around him. 

“Come for the show?” Ross said and there was a greed in his voice, a tone that spoke of possession and gluttony. 

“Oh no.” Pierce ambled in and then directed several of the V-Corp agents out of the cell. They scrambled to follow their superior’s direction. “I already saw how you liked to watch the different vampires fuck him. That’s more than enough perversion for me. I just wanted to check on our experiment. That’s what’s important.”

“Well, you seemed to enjoy all of the activities,” Ross countered. “Perhaps it got you off?”

The clinical scientists in the room shifted uneasily at the turn of the conversation. The obvious hatred and competition between the two men meant nothing to Tony as he listened to how Steve had been used and abused over the last day. Had it only been a day? It could have been more – he had no idea how long he was in the cell before they brought him to the accursed roof. His spirit moved toward Steve, and thankfully, he was able to be close to his love. So close now, if he had a physical body he would have been able to touch him, lend a comforting hand, Tony saw the marks on Steve’s body. The stains of vampire bites. He wanted to scream and cry, but more than that a rage boiled inside of him. He cursed the undying corpse on the gurney, the uselessness of his wraith form, and then the hell that he must now abide as he witnessed the further desecration of his human mate and his love. 

“Let’s not be so crass,” Pierce said and then directed. “Get it off the gurney and let it sense the meat.”

_What?_

Tony cringed. What were they going to do? 

“Freshen up the wound,” Ross said. The remaining two V-Corps agents went to Steve. One of them pulled out a knife and before Tony could act (even if it was useless), sliced open Steve’s chest. Blood streamed down his body and Steve jerked. His head came up and his eyes flashed open. He raged, thrashing against the chains. “Hurt him.”

The agents battered Steve with fists as well as superficial knife wounds over the next five minutes. No matter what Tony did, his spiritual form didn’t intervene, but then he noticed his physical body shuddering on the gurney. With no idea whether or not it was responding to his desperation, Tony concentrated on it. 

“That’s enough now,” Ross commanded as Steve went limp in the chains. 

That wasn’t the Captain America Tony knew and loved. He barely fought. The strains of his torture clarified to Tony. Whatever they had done from electrical shock to rape had stripped away Steve’s reserves. Before they had been captured, Tony had already drunk too much. Now, Steve had little left to protect himself. 

Pierce said, “Lower the gurney and release it.”

The V-Corp agents went about their work without complaint. They pulled out the wood gag, and then unbound the body. The creature on the gurney squirmed about as if seeking something. When one of the agents got too close to the mouth, it snapped at him. The agent jerked his arm away from the sharp fangs. 

“Lower the Captain,” Ross added, and the clatter and clank of Steve’s chains being dropped echoed in the cell. Steve collapsed in the single spotlight. The shine of the light highlighting the abuse his body sustained over the last day. If he hadn’t been drained, Tony knew that he would have been in fighting form still or nearly so. Ross turned to the researchers. “Your theory better be correct.”

“The serum is in overdrive. It’s activated to the fullest extent,” said the tall bald scientist. “We’ve done the tests. Once the vampire drinks from him, then the glands should revive fully.”

“It hasn’t worked with the other vampires,” Pierce noted and gave both of the researchers a hard, determined look. 

“The other vampires were not routinely fed serum laced blood for years. We expect that this is the difference,” the quiet second scientist said. 

“It hasn’t made a difference in Stark’s ability to withstand the sun,” Pierce replied.

“It has in that the glands are still functional. Look at it. It clearly wants to get off of the gurney. It’s seeking the spilt blood.”

All of them turned to watch as the gurney was lowered, and Tony’s undead corpse sought out the blood. How it scented it, Tony couldn’t tell, but there was a strange metallic taste that overwhelmed his spiritual form. Mesmerized by the creature that had been him only hours before, Tony shivered as the whisper of wind blew through the cell. No one, not any of the corporeal beings, felt it. Was it the winds to come and take Tony away – dissipate him from this world? 

No one impeded its progress as the skeletal manifestation of Tony crept across the floor, inching ever closer to the beaten and bleeding Steve. It dug its bony fingers into the floor and pulled itself toward the feast. Tony shook his head, wanting his body to stop. He attempted to force himself back into the body, but nothing availed him. He cried out, but no real noise penetrated the room. The creature fumbled around on the floor and found its way to Steve. It’s skeletal hand touching Steve’s shin and then using it to drag itself to its prey. 

No. No. No.

Tony wanted to tell it to stop, tell _himself_ to stop, but there were no words. He had no power on the physical plane at all. His eyeless, faceless self moved over a battered Steve, hunting for something, the fangs prominent in its mouth. Blood oozed from Steve’s many wounds. It laid on top of Steve for a moment as if in need of rest. Steve remained still as the grave. Tony prayed and wished it would stop. Told himself not to do this. In this state would his physical body completely drain Steve? Would he kill Steve and not even know he was doing it?

“What’s it waiting for?”

“I don’t know, Secretary,” said the tall, bald scientist.

As Tony viewed the horror scene before him, the yearning for blood welled up inside of him as if his ethereal form craved the blood as well. Unmistakable. He found himself closing the distance between himself and Steve as he lay on the floor of the cell. His physical form clawed at Steve’s chest, then curled its finger bones around his arm. Steve awoke in a fugue, Tony saw the bleariness of his focus. He must have realized he was free from hanging from the ceiling, but he had no strength to move. The parasite on his chest nuzzled against him and Steve blinked several times as if trying to figure out what was going on. When he finally managed to peer down at his chest, Steve startled and attempted to scramble away but the creature, driven by the torture Tony had endured and hunger, lurched at him and struck him true. The fangs pierced Steve’s throat and sank deeply. The paralyzing agent hit, and Steve froze, his eyes open and staring at Tony’s wraith spirit, the pain clearly disturbing his expression.

Tony didn’t want to drink. He wanted his physical body to stop, but at the same time it warmed him. He hadn’t realized how very cold he’d been as a wraith. The winds stopped, and a rush of power flowed through him. He bathed in it. A feeling as wonderful as the sun used to be spread through him. It suffused through him until his muscles revitalized and grew, until his flesh regenerated and stitched itself back together. He hadn’t known he’d closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was no longer a wraith, but in his body drinking the bounty of his life. The thick elixir soothed his parched throat, brought back his nerves and dried out organs. A blossom of life bloomed throughout his undead corpse. 

He drank.

The blood filled him with renewal. As it rejuvenated his tissues, it transformed him like a sacred rite, a baptism of rebirth. He shivered with the taste as his tongue began to sense again and his throat worked for more and more. He wanted it all. With all the blood, his vampire needs grew heavy in his mind with no other thoughts materializing. His mind and spirit sank into the purity of the taste, the tang and sweetness. It transformed him. It became him. He wanted only the blood and nothing else. He felt nothing else but its effects. It restored him down to his undead soul. The taste reminded him of love.

Love.

His hand, his flesh and blood hand, felt the contours of muscle. Tony reached out and smoothed his hand down the side of a bicep, toward the pectoral muscle and into the abdominals. Though it was not perfect in touch, there were ragged tears, and aggravated wounds along the skin. He searched and explored. Oh, how he wanted to make love, but he didn’t reach for that. His glands hadn’t released the orgasm-inducing hormone. Only the paralytic had been injected into the bite so that he could partake in as much of the bountiful feast as he required. 

As he swallowed down the sweet nectar, he heard a quiet voice speaking to him. It broke away the babble of those around him, those who nailed him to a fucking cross. The voice was tender and gentle and perfect in its resonance. 

“Take what you need.” So simply put. Tony drank enthusiastically. The voice continued, “Take it all, Tony, if you need it. Remember, I love you. I always will.”

 _I love you_.

The words sang to him. Beautiful and bright. The warmth and heat in the words expanded through him with more energy and more purpose than the blood he imbibed. The wish behind them spoke of caring and respect. It spoke of sacrifice and courage. Those words drew him away from the taste of the blood. He didn’t resist. Instead he allowed the sentiment behind those words to encompass him, wrapping him in their promise until he felt well loved. He swallowed down the last of his drink and pulled off. Opening his eyes, Tony saw Steve limp before him, but smiling all the same. Steve raised a hand and cupped Tony’s cheek. He had no more energy or strength to speak but his eyes told Tony everything he needed to know. Steve’s eyes changed everything.

Tony fell back onto the cold concrete floor. His whole body shivered, seizing as he struggled. His hands quaked and he heard people in the background. _Remarkable_ they said. _He’s perfectly cured. Get him onto the gurney._

His body violently convulsed and he screamed through it. No sound escaped him. He juddered and arched. The scientists scattered as he rolled and pitched about the room. His body wasn’t his own, some supernatural force possessed it – the thing that made him a vampire in the first place. It seeded deep within his chest. It pulsed into the hollow of his ribcage and grasped what was left of his stone heart, worming its way into his core. He tore at his own chest, clawing at it as the agents whipped out their guns.

Ross yelled, “Don’t you dare shoot him.”

“What the hell is happening to him?” Pierce asked. Though his voice was quiet, his tone gave his anxiety and fear away. 

The scientists only shook their heads.

At that moment, Tony thrashed around, and his voice came back. A tortured scream filled the cell. He sobbed as the pain shot through him, like a thousand insect stings all over his body. He grimaced, and blood tears ran down his face. Each sting exploded, and agony streaked through his muscles, through all of his newly reformed tissues. Turning to look one last time at Steve, Tony memorized the curve of his face, the hope in his expression, the strength through the weakness and the battery he suffered. And then there was nothing left because the thing inside of him burst forth and changed everything. Changed him.

The power of it ripped him apart. His sinews and muscles stretched and quaked through the stress. His brain begged for mercy as the new energy within him regenerated him, rebirthed him. He became something new, something horrible and bright. Something beautiful and something deadly. The surge of power lifted him. Tony opened his eyes and the people in the cell around him backed away. He stood – no, he floated a few feet above them. A hot and terrible fire blazed in his chest as he focused on his tormentors. With little knowledge of what happened to his body, Tony raised his hands when the V-Corps agents pointed their guns at him. While the bullets couldn’t kill him, they could do significant harm.

“Not at him, you fools!” Ross yelled. “At the Captain!” The V-Corp agents swung their weapons at the helpless Steve. Ross turned to Tony, his face red with rage. “Whatever the hell you’re playing at remember, he dies if you don’t cooperate.”

Tony never flinched. As if a spirit from a different world possessed him, Tony raised his hands and the heated power flaring in his chest, spread outward to his hands. The beam of pure energy shot out of the palms of his hands where they had nailed him to a wooden cross. The fire hit Ross squarely in the head, decapitating him instantly. Without thought, Tony spun around and shot Pierce and the doctors. The agents fired but Tony blocked their bullets with a blast of energy that slammed their bodies to the wall, breaking their fragile necks. In seconds it was over. They were dead.

He settled on the floor of the cell, his feet still burning from the transformation. Every shot of light like a pixel around him shone bright and pierced his vision. The resolution, the contrast, was all too real, too perfect in their aspect to take in at once. Every cell of his body spoke to him. The sensitivity overload might drive him mad, but he concentrated instead on Steve huddled nearly unconscious on the floor. 

Rushing to him, Tony bent over Steve and cradled him in his arms. “Don’t do this to me Steve. Don’t leave me.” Steve’s eyes opened, and he smiled. He tried to lift his hand to touch Tony, but his strength failed him. Tony searched his battered face, his broken body. “No, no. You can’t leave me. Not now.” As he looked over Steve, Tony’s new vision saw everything, all the pain and agony bestowed upon Steve by these madmen. What good did it do to _see_ when he had no power to heal. He gathered Steve in his arms, but before he climbed to his feet, the shadows around him thickened as if he felt a membrane between worlds. He startled and held Steve closer.

Natasha stepped through the dimension, surveyed the damage he’d done, and then came directly to him. “I see you’ve transformed.”

“What?” Tony shook as the shock of the last day washed over him.

“It must have been the serum. It probably sped up the process.” Natasha knelt down next to Steve and picked up his wrists. “I don’t know what kind of locks these are. The metal is probably adamantium. Reasonably sure even Captain America can’t break that.” 

Tony pulled Steve’s arm out of her hands and held him tightly to his chest. “What the hell are you talking about? And where the hell were you? Where was Thor? Look at him! Look what happened to him!” The hell of the last day slammed into him and all he wanted to do was dispel the pain and horror. All he wanted to do was ravage this place. “Do you even fucking know what the hell happened to me?” He spat at her. “Get the fuck away from us.”

“I know what happened to you,” Natasha said and reached out to touch his face. He flinched but allowed her to do it. “It’s spectacular, how you’ve transformed.”

“Getting crucified will do that to you,” Tony growled and jerked away from her probing hand. “Just leave us the fuck alone.”

Natasha stood up and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t think you want us to do that.”

The cell door opened, and Clint walked. Tony held his arm outstretched, aiming at Clint. If this new thing inside him knew anything, it was time to defend and shoot. Natasha stepped in the line of fire. 

“It’s okay. He’s with me. He told me where to find you,” Natasha said, her eyes were darker than he’d ever seen them.

“No, it’s not okay. He infected JARVIS. He’s been a double agent all this time,” Tony said and pushed Steve behind him so that he could protect him with his body.

“His family had been taken,” Natasha replied. She stayed cool but something pained etched across her features. “They’re safe now. Or will be. But first we have to get you out of here.” She waved to Steve. “Can we get him to safety before you blow us away?”

He considered them both. If they told the truth, then Clint had switched sides again. He wondered if the man got dizzy with all the rotations and his ever-revolving devotion. Looking down at Steve, Tony wished that his mate was more aware. As it was, Steve bordered on completely unconscious. Tony brushed Steve’s hair back and wanted to spend hours and hours caring for him, but they had little time. “We have to get out of here, Steve. I have to get out of here.” The rooftop and the sun beckoned. He shivered at the memories. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time,” Natasha said. “Can you get these off of him?” She’d turned to Clint and he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t have the digital key. They never trusted me with it,” Clint said. His face was pale, and his eyes set like stone. 

“I can get them off,” Tony said and picked up the chains that linked to Steve’s wrists. He focused his thoughts and the energy streamed from his chest where the iron rod had once skewered him. Like molten steel it ran along his arms and the chains melted away in his hands. Clint whistled but stationed himself near the door to guard them as Tony shifted to Steve’s ankles. He followed the same routine and the chains fell away from Steve’s ankles. 

“Okay, we need to move,” Natasha said and stood up. “Can you carry him?”

“Can’t you just shift us all through to where ever you came from?” Tony asked as he slipped his arms under Steve. His muscles still ached from the recent transformation, but he found strength in being close to his mate. 

“Unfortunately, no.” Natasha said. 

He scrunched up his face as the possibilities of what she actually did when she walked through the shadows collided in his brain. Space-time and configuring it. He needed more time to study it, but he had no time to spare. “Okay then, what’s the plan.” He heaved and stood up, bringing Steve with him. 

“Fury is going to signal us,” Clint said. “We can’t stay here. They’re bound to come soon to check on the dead camera.” Clint pointed to the corner of the wall. “I was assigned to monitor it and switch it to a dummy recording before your little stunt.”

“Let’s move out,” Natasha said. She nodded to Clint and he went to the door, slipping outside into the corridor before moving back in and then gesturing to the gurney.

“Put the Captain on the gurney,” Clint said. “We can move faster that way.”

Tony refused. “No. I am not letting him out of my arms.”

“We might need your voodoo hands for defense,” Clint replied and ducked out of the cell again. 

Natasha turned to Tony. “He has a point.”

“He had a lot of points along the way. Some of them obviously lies. I don’t know how you can trust him all of the sudden,” Tony said but he eyed the gurney. It would leave him with free hands to use the source of his power as defense. He had no idea why he wasn’t freaking out right now, considering he’d transformed into some super powered being. Like Scarlett O’Hara he would think about it tomorrow. But he couldn’t not really, his brain keep drilling away at it. Right now he needed to focus his attention on getting out of here and getting Steve to safety. 

Natasha glared at him, grabbed his arm, and said through clenched teeth, “Don’t you think I know that? But do you want me to blame him for trying to protect his family?”

“But he gave up his family for you!” Tony snapped and yanked his arm out of her grasp.

“Apparently, he didn’t,” Natasha said. She looked him up and down. He was only in his boxer shorts – Steve was nude. “Get one of the uniforms from the V-Corp agent and put Steve on the gurney.” She marched away from him. She went to the door and consulted with Clint.

Tony stood there frozen with the possibilities. He looked down at his chest where the iron rod had pierced him and all he saw now was a shining disc. He lifted his hand and touched it. It felt neither hot or cold, though it almost had a bluish sheen to it – a cold fire in his chest. He opened the palms of his hands and small discs were there too with the same ethereal glow. What had happened to him? This transformation of his vampire abilities should terrify him, but it only set off new questions in his scientific brain. Thor controlled the atmosphere, Natasha slipped through dimensions, and now, he could summon energy. 

“Stark!” Natasha said sharply. “Get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Tony went to the task. First, he placed a still semi-conscious Steve on the gurney and let Natasha tuck the blanket around him. Tony refused to think about the last day, about what had happened, but it was hard to deny the fact that Steve had multiple vampire bites on his body. He’d lost a ton of blood. Tony focused his thinking on taking care of Steve, not on the horror that either of them endured. If he faced then horror, then his mental ability to function would break down. He quickly stripped one of the agents and put on the clothes. They felt tight, binding, but Tony tossed the ammuno vest to the side. He needed his chest to be open and able to be summoned for defense. He shook his head; strange days and strange thoughts. 

Once finished he joined Natasha at the side of the gurney. Her brows furrowed as she checked Steve’s pulse point. “He’s weak. Very weak.”

“I drank from him,” Tony whispered. He hated to admit it. “I didn’t know any better.” Or did he? In wraith form, he’d watched his corpse crawl across the floor to the source of food. 

She eyed him but said nothing about it. “Let’s move out.” 

Clint opened the door to the prison cell and waved them forward. When Tony stepped out into the hallway, he saw a mass of agents littering the corridor. Arrows stuck out of their bodies. Clint cocked another arrow to his bow and nodded to Tony. Since when did V-Corp agents use arrows? Clint had committed a crime, killing his fellow agents for Tony and Steve. With that in mind, Tony helped push the gurney toward the bank of elevators, but that meant they needed to go out to the main hallway and surely with the causalities in the prison corridor, they were bound to meet resistance. 

Tony scanned the hallway and saw that all the monitoring devices were inactive. He attributed that to Clint. Maybe, the guy was trustworthy, now. Pushing the gurney as Steve moved around on it, Tony followed Natasha. If their luck held out, they would be able to get to the elevators and down to the lower level parking garage without anyone noticing them. Considering the last few days though, Tony knew their luck tipped to the bad side.

A troop of V-Corps agents met them at the corner. Natasha flew into action as Tony flung the gurney toward the wall. The coven mistress grabbed one of the agent’s arms as he swung around to hit her with one of his wood spiked gloves. The air around her warbled, a high pitch whistle and then she yanked hard, pulling the guy at the same time she kicked him in the balls. Half of his body shifted through space and dimensions while the other half ended up lifeless on the floor. Without pause Natasha jumped on the next agent as the others scattered along the doorways and hallways of the corridor. That would make it more difficult to hit them, but Clint shot off two arrows as Tony felt the heat warm his palms. Natasha leapt onto one of the agents, swinging her legs over his head and then the air wobbled about her and she arched backwards into the void. 

The fire of automatic weapons stopped Tony from watching as he ducked away next to the gurney. Steve fumbled but Tony pressed a hand to his shoulder from his crouched position. “Stay down.” Steve struggled under his hand, but Tony kept him down as Clint took out two more agents with his bow. 

“Could use some help here!” Clint called from an access hallway. 

A hail of bullets peppered the walls above Steve, and Tony knocked the gurney away from the wall. Tugging Steve, he pulled him down to the floor and covered him with his own body. Steve grunted and shivered against Tony. He was probably going into shock. Tony cursed and then felt the frustration gather under his breastbone. The heat flared, and he kicked the gurney until it was out of the way. One hand on Steve, Tony raised the other and a flash of brilliant white light blinded everyone. The agents firing on them dropped to the floor, dead. Blood leaked out of their ears and their mouths. For an instant, Tony worried about Clint – had he killed him as well? But he heard a muffled _Shit!_ that confirmed the strike had been precise like a surgical knife cutting out cancer. 

Natasha appeared next to him, nearly setting off another blast from his hands. 

“Whoa. Just me,” Natasha said. She must have slipped through dimensions again. 

Swiftly, Tony gathered Steve up into his arms even as his trembling mate tried to get onto his own feet. He protested, “I can walk.”

“You can barely stand. Get back on the gurney. Fury is here.” Natasha ordered as she ran to join Clint at the end of the corridor. With bow in hand, Clint and Natasha started forward, jumping over the carnage. 

Tony wasted no time. He manhandled Steve back onto the gurney, throwing the blanket over him. Pale and weak, his whole body shaking uncontrollably, Steve reached out a hand to touch Tony’s chest where it glowed. “I’m dreaming,” he murmured and fell unconscious.

For a terrible second, Tony thought he’d died but then a scream from the adjacent corridor brought him back to the reality of his situation. He saw the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. It gave him the energy to move, to run, to find safety. Towing the gurney, Tony raced to join Natasha and Clint, stopping at the intersection of the corridors. He peered around the corner to find that Natasha and Clint had easily dispatched a half dozen more agents, though Clint clearly had a bullet wound to the shoulder that would likely make it difficult to pull the bow and Natasha grew ashen. Tony spotted several hits of the wooden spikes to her abdomen. 

Relatively unharmed at this point since his resurrection, Tony directed, “You two, get him. I’ll lead the way.”

“You don’t know the place,” Clint said. “I do.”

Tony had to concede that point so he nodded to Natasha. “Wheel the gurney and keep him quiet. He wakes up and thrashes around.” 

She didn’t argue. Just that fact terrified Tony a little too much. He took the lead with Clint beside him, nursing the bullet wound in his shoulder. Tony grimaced, and Clint directed them toward the bank of elevators. Tony accepted that Clint needed to protect his family, he understood it on a primal level. But every fucking second that passed, Tony spent shoving the horror and agony away. If the supernatural energy flowing through him hadn’t kept him on his feet and moving, Tony was sure he’d be a puddle on the floor, weeping and moaning over what had happened. He kept rubbing his fingers over his palms, trying to find out if the holes were still there, or if the energy discs in his hands generated from the scars of his crucifixion. Like some kind of fucking parody of Christ. If he thought about it too long, his hold on reality wavered and his legs threatened to collapse under him. So he moved on, not thinking, concentrating on getting Steve to safety. If he did that he wouldn’t have to think about what they did to him, how he wanted to tear out their throats, how he silently reveled in their deaths. 

They made the bank of elevators without encountering anymore resistance. Natasha whispered, “Keep alert. They’re close.”

Even now, she worked the dimensions around her. The shadows shifted and shaped into doorways. He still wanted to know why she could just step through, why she didn’t just bring them with her. She seemed to read his mind and shook her head. “You’d be torn apart.”

The shadows covered them like a black fog and the chill settled in his bones as he hit the button. Natasha said, “Not down. Up.”

“What?”

She didn’t have a chance to explain as the elevator doors opened to another group of agents. The V-Corps were ready for them this time, though. One of them rolled a metallic ball out of the elevator. “Grenade!” Clint yelled.

Natasha ran for it, scooping it up and sending it through the darkness. The blast ricocheted into their space-time sending everyone down, with the gurney toppling over and Steve slamming into the floor with a thud. Tony scrambled up at the same time several of the agents in the elevator surged forward. The gunfire pinged off the overturned gurney and both Clint and Steve huddled behind it. Tony scooted away from the barrage. Natasha’s working of the space-time continuum offered them a dark shade to afforded them some protection. The air felt thicker as if they moved in a viscous fluid. He shot a glance over to Natasha, huddled by the wall working the dimensions, curving space-time around them. 

“Stark, I can’t hold them back for long!”

Tony took that as his cue. The heat in his chest amplified and he spread his hands out in front of him. The beam of energy shot out, bursting forth and burning away their enemies and leaving only devastation in his path. All of the agents fell. Tony swallowed down the sickness, but the idea that he could be such a killer swam over him like a swarm of locust, eating away at his sanity. He was a member of the undead – that didn’t make him an absolute killer. Yet his power, his transformation – what else was it but naming him the harbinger of death? He staggered, numb with the power and the realization of what and who he had become.

“Now, before they send up more!” Clint yelled and went into the elevator, kicking out the remains of the dead agents. His face was stone cold, not reacting to the death of his colleagues around him. Somehow Tony got into the elevator and found Steve in the corner with Natasha hovering over him. Steve was half awake and ashen. His whole body shuddered, and he leaned heavily on Natasha, gagging and choking as she held him. Before Tony said anything, Clint pushed the elevator button and the car closed. 

The shock of the last hour hit Tony, and he stumbled to land next to Steve. Natasha took that as a sign and moved away. Not knowing what to do, Tony only gathered Steve to his chest and embraced him. His cold skin felt so wrong, so horribly strange. He cupped Steve’s face and searched his bleary gaze. “Don’t leave me.”

Wearily, Steve reached up and covered Tony’s hand with his own. “Not going anywhere.”

There were so many things Tony wanted to ask. But how could he ask any of them? Now wasn’t the time. Yet the fear raged through Tony, and he contained it only out of sheer willpower as he took in the abuse Steve had suffered. The stains of what had happened to Steve riddled his body with scars. He caressed Steve’s bare shoulder. So many scars. Would the serum heal them? Would it have a chance? Could Steve survive?

It worked as a defense mechanism – to worry about what had happened to Steve and not to concern himself about his own circumstances. His whole body felt like a live wire. The shooting of some kind of energy from the center of his chest out to his limbs crackled and hissed in his brain. From the crucifixion to the transformation, he couldn’t wrap his head around it all. Too much. It was all too much. 

The overwhelming impact of the events blinded him to what Natasha and Clint had in mind as the elevator rose. Several minutes went by as it computed in his head. They were going up. They’d said they were going up. He embraced a lax Steve in his arms and shook his head.

“Why the hell are we going up?”

“To the roof,” Clint said. He tapped something in his ear. “We’re going to have a greeting party.” 

Natasha nodded as if she expected it. “Is Fury in position? And Thor?”

“As far as I know,” Clint said. 

Before he could elaborate, Tony spat out, “What the hell is going on? Why aren’t we going to the garage? Where the hell are you expecting to go?”

“Fury.” Natasha said no more and came to help Tony get Steve on his feet.

Tony whacked her away. “Fury? Is he going to be able to do anything? They’re coming. The V-Corps – they have a building full of men and women who are trained to do nothing but kill us. Do you get it? They are going to be up there on the roof, waiting for us!” Tony stumbled over the word roof. The idea of going back there again, of seeing the crosses on the roof, crashed into him like the frigid hell of an avalanche. Its power too strong for him to fight again, for him to stand up again. The coldness seeping from Steve and from his terrors paralyzed and froze him. “No!”

“We don’t have time to argue,” Natasha said. The elevator buzzed. They had arrived. She went to pick up Steve, but Tony grabbed for him, holding him close. She commanded him, “Let go. Right now, with your transformation and abilities, you’re our ace in the hole. Get out there and clear us a path.”

“A path to where?” Tony hadn’t released Steve.

“Across the landing pad to the other side of the roof,” Natasha ordered and then more gently. “I won’t let anything happen to him.” When he still didn’t move, Natasha laid her hand on his near Steve’s shoulder. “You have to do this, Tony. It’s the only way.”

“There has to be another. You didn’t come here to save us if you didn’t have a way to get out of here.”

She ignored his protests. “Clint can’t keep the doors closed forever.” She bent down and brought Steve to his feet. Steve’s legs nearly collapsed under him. His lips were colorless, his eyes sunken. “Help me save him.”

Pain and purpose streaked her features. It warred there, a quiet desperation to flee and leave them behind changed the colors of her eyes. With no other recourse, he agreed and slowly released his grasp on Steve. Even if they got off this roof, the likelihood that Natasha had calculated wrong – that there would be casualties still tainted the air. How would they escape? What was the plan? Clint eyed him and waited until Tony stepped up to the elevator door, waited until Tony’s chest burned bright with the fire of his rage, waited until Tony raised his hands – already glowing – and nodded. 

The doors opened. Agents lined the rooftop. In the distance, in the sky, Tony saw the glimmer of a Helicarrier. They’d brought in the big guns. Natasha had calculated wrong. They would all die. The agents aimed their guns. It wouldn’t slow Tony down, or Natasha, but Clint and Steve would die. Then the agents would get close enough – they would set the place ablaze with the Helicarrier’s guns. Tony stepped out of the elevator, gave one last backward glance to his mate and love, and then dropped his head back, allowing the fire inside to consume him.


	6. Chapter 6

He dreamed of clouds on fire. Not smoke issuing from the flames, but actual billowing, white clouds in the sun afire in a blazing red and yellow conflagration. It covered the landscape and reached up into the sky. As he walked through Hell’s garden, none of the fire touched him. It didn’t burn. It didn’t hurt. Each blossom of flames grazed his skin. Steve stepped on petals of fire and the soles of his feet remained unharmed. The fire suffused into him, became part of him. Through the flames he journeyed, knowing a destination was at the end of the field of fire, but not knowing what that end goal was. The flames became things in his life. Shadows danced about the fire threatening to claim it. Nothing doused them. He came to understand that the fire wasn’t a danger but the soul of life to him. He touched it as one might brush a hand across the edge of leaves in a forest or flowers in a meadow. It encompassed him, surrounded him like a shell forming around him. 

The red and gold of the fire flared and sparked. He wanted to question it, but the shadows lurked in the recesses where the fire couldn’t stand, where life and death mixed to form something immutable. The fire shielded him from these places, these areas of power and potency, where life turned to death and then again to something superior, supreme and absolute. The fire protected him from treading upon that darkness. It kept him in the light, bathed him in warmth and never burned or scorched his flesh. He didn’t fight it, nor did he care to. The fire offered him something better than the night. It offered him life. He sank into it, letting the licks of flame consume him.

Opening his eyes, he turned to look at the center of the fire – its heart and soul. He blinked, and an image formed. His hopes dwindled as he recognized Natasha bent over him. “Hey, you’ve been out for a while.” She reached over and felt his forehead as if he had a fever. 

“What?” The weight of reality pressed down on him and he suppressed the need to cry out and beg for release. He yearned to go back to the forest of fire and light. 

“Tony’s been worried sick,” Natasha said. Her eyes were soft, not challenging. She looked tired, and that was saying something for a vampire.

“What?” As his grogginess dissipated, and his aches and pains grew. “Tony?” It took seconds for the memories to click into place. “Is he all right?” He remembered an elevator; he recalled flames and Tony – high in the air. The top of the Triskelion alit as if it were the wick of a candle, burning in the dark night. 

“He’s resting now. I don’t think he’s rested since we escaped,” Natasha said. She settled in a chair next to the bed Steve laid on. It took several minutes for his lagging brain to catch up. Something was wrong with him. He felt disconnected from his body as if he’d been a marionette puppet but his strings had been tangled and knotted. 

As he surveyed his hospital room, Steve realized it wasn’t a hospital room at all. In fact, he recognized the medbay of a Helicarrier. He frowned. It wasn’t busy, not like the ones he’d seen in the past as a member of the V-Corps. It was whisper quiet. No machines beeped out his vitals. The room was barren except for the bed, the chair Natasha sat in, a small table with a clipboard on it but nothing else. On the walls he noticed signs of shelving that had been removed, outlets pulled out, and dead wires hanging out of the sockets. 

He tried to swallow but his throat ached and scratched. He shuffled to try and sit up, but Natasha placed her hand on his chest. “Stay put. You’ve been out for three days.”

“Three days?” Still his brain fumbled along as if he ran ahead of it. He knew she was right, his mind still wobbled. He couldn’t gather the strength to comprehend how he felt – what storm he knew swirled within him like the eye of a hurricane slowly inching toward landfall. 

He squinted at Natasha. The world blurred, and he fell back against the pillow. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “What happened?” He remembered the cell – where they tried to break him. Where they had broken him. He shivered and the fears of the vampires as they came in the room and drank from him – made his body do things he didn’t want it to do. Respond to their chemicals. He wished the grogginess would take away that memory. The thing inside him, the storm, growing would wash away the misery of those feelings, those memories from him. His eyes flashed open and he slapped at Natasha as she touched his chest.

She snatched her hand away, momentarily startled but then composed herself. “Sorry, I should have known.”

“Should have known what?” Steve said, his voice far too fierce and unyielding. “What should you have known? Where the hell am I? What the hell happened?” He didn’t want her pity, and he didn’t want her sorrow. What he wanted was the truth. He wanted to run, but he energy hadn’t returned. “Where’s Tony?”

Natasha held up her hands as if he might jump out of bed and stab her in the heart. “Like I said, resting. He hasn’t had any rest for days.” She nodded toward the large expansive window near the bed. When he followed her gaze, he confirmed that dawn would break soon. The sky outside the air ship had that predawn light that melded night with day and promised. “He’s been up for three days, sitting at your side. Terrified of what he did.”

Those last words depleted him of his rage until it only simmered under the surface. “Why? What did he do? What’s going on?” When her gaze dropped, and her hands followed, Steve knew she’d curled in on herself, closing up. She wrapped her arms around herself. So unlike the Natasha he knew, that he thought she either played with him or feared his reaction to the truth. 

“He nearly drained you. He was dead,” she said. She looked at him then. Her eyes that smoky green that Steve learned long ago meant that she saw things around him, the shadows and dimensions of other worlds, other times hanging close by. “He’d been crucified on the roof of the Triskelion, from what he told me. He doesn’t want you to know. I think you should know. You should know all of it. He said you went through too much, though. What they did to you, the scars they left.”

Something amorphous shuddered through Steve. Not a chill or a pain, but a sense of incongruity. Like his dream where the clouds were fire and it didn’t hurt him but ran through his nerves, shaking through him. A personal earthquake meant to change him. For a long second, he only stared at her. She stood there, waiting for him, but her eyes – her eyes weren’t staring at him, but at something beyond him. Some state of life (or death) that only she could see. For the first time, he comprehended her power – she not only stepped through to other dimensions, but she saw them around her constantly. Right now, she watched something happening like ghosts playing games around him.

“I don’t think you need to worry about the scars,” Steve said even as he rubbed the side of his neck. Maybe the bruises were still there. Maybe his body just hadn’t healed anything after they’d taken so much of his blood. Maybe that was the change seeded deep inside of him. Maybe what happened deprived him of his life with the serum.

“No, but he will,” Natasha said. She hesitated but stood up and lightly grasped his hand. “I don’t want to upset you. But things are different now with Tony. What he went through, what you went through, changes everything.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” he replied. It was true. He wasn’t following her because he had the distinct impression that she wasn’t actually talking to him. But maybe some other version of him. How did she know where she was, or when she was? How did she not go insane?

“You need to talk to him but remember – he’s different now.”

“But he survived it,” Steve said. The conviction in his voice might have partly been for her, but mainly it was for himself. He wanted to believe that the hell of what happened on the roof with Tony would be something they could put behind them. Just like Steve planned on putting what happened in that dark, little room with those nameless vampires away. He would close it away, gather up all the misfortune and pain and lock it, imprison it as it tried to imprison him. His fists clenched, and he forced himself to relax, to open his hands. Even the small motion ate away at what energy he had.

She smiled at him. “He didn’t want me to tell you. But I think it’s important.”

“Yeah,” Steve said distractedly. He needed sleep. He needed to think about what had happened and why. “He’s different. You said.” He rubbed at his face and wished she would go, leave. He ached for sleep, for release. He wanted to lose himself.

She persisted. “He’s not a vampire anymore.”

That stopped him. Steve dropped his hand from his face and stared at her. She must be talking to some other Steve, in some other dimension. Natasha only paused for a moment and then she pursued her course of explanation. “I’m not, either. I haven’t been for decades. Neither is Thor. He – well – he hasn’t been a vampire for centuries.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said and maybe, somehow she’d shifted him through into a different reality. Maybe his Tony was gone. Maybe he had nothing left and she brought him here to a new place, to meet this new Tony. “Tony’s dead.”

“No.” She waited for him to process her simple words. “I told you he’s fine. Just changed.”

“Still not understanding anything that you’re saying. He’s different. He’s not a vampire. What?” Steve asked, and the confused anger boiled to the top again. He wasn’t healthy enough to keep it in check. Stoicism was easier when he wasn’t weak. The thing inside of him, eating away at his resolve, at his strength roiled and turned as if it wanted to transform Steve – as if he was under attack from inside. He shivered at the fear of it – of himself. “What the hell are you talking about? Am I in some other reality? Some other dimension?”

Natasha smirked in a rueful way. “I wish. I can’t bring you to a different dimension. I can’t do that with any human. It would kill you.” She eased over to sit on the side of the bed. The bed that was in a medbay but a medbay without equipment in a Helicarrier that looked like it was stripped down to the nuts and bolts. She kept her hands to herself, but the presence, her weight on the bed centered him, focused the room on her. “Once a vampire transforms, we leave that world behind.”

“I don’t-.” He stopped. Maybe he didn’t want to hear the rest. 

“When we get our powers, we transform. Not all vampires get powers or transform. Most don’t, actually.” She looked down at her hand that stayed close to him on the bed without touching him. “Most vampires expire long before they transform. The process starts long before the transformation happens. But the final stages of the transformation process actually require that a vampire expire and then be revived. That’s what happened to Tony.”

“That means,” Steve started but failed to continue again. It meant that Natasha and Thor had died at some time in the distant past as well and had been revived. It meant that Tony had died. It meant that Steve had been impotent to help Tony. It meant that all of the years that Steve worked to stop the torture of vampires within the ranks of the V-Corps was for naught.

“Most vampires pass into being a wraith. Trapped in a nether world of nothingness. Trapped to sit by their decaying body and ashes for the rest of eternity.” Natasha stroked the sheet next to Steve’s leg, smoothing it. “A vampire revived and transformed is something else.” She looked up at him then, her eyes motes of stars and violet darkness. “You must understand this, Steve. He’s not a vampire. He’s one of us now.”

“One of you? A wraith? You’re not a wraith.” Steve cringed with the beginnings of a headache. “I always thought he was one of you. What does that mean, exactly? Is he some kind of ghost or monster or god?”

Her smile lit up the room. “No, no god or ghost. Maybe we are monsters, I don’t know. We call ourselves Divini.”

“Divini?” The sure as hell sounded like god to him. It made no sense. It was also a little presumptuous of them – considering the name. The thing inside of him, the cancer growing to consume the rest of his energy shuddered at the name, as if it understood the consequences. He couldn’t understand this dichotomy within his thoughts, he couldn’t control it. “Just what the hell are you talking about?” The anger and fear welled up inside of him. What happened to Tony? What the hell was happening to him? “What happened to Tony? What aren’t you telling me?”

“We are what comes after.” Natasha kept her voice soft, almost tender, as if she spoke to a frightened child. He would have blown up except her expression stayed gentle because she didn’t want to spook him. “Vampires are the state of in-between. They are neither alive nor dead. It’s a transition. Some fail and only go on to waste away in the wraith state. Others, very few, are lucky enough to be transformed.”

Steve digested what she told him. He found tears blocking his view of her and he turned away to face the wall of windows. The tinted windows blocked out the sun, but he focused on the light. He grabbed onto the idea of it because it cleared away the facts that piled up around him. The sun’s light washed away all of the complexity of his love and what came next. He couldn’t fathom it. How was he to imagine his next moment with Tony when he didn’t even know what Tony was anymore.

“I think I want to be alone right now.”

“You sacrificed everything for him. Don’t leave him now. He needs you,” Natasha said.

Steve whipped his head around to meet her gaze. Tears streaked his face and he growled at her, “I would never abandon Tony. Never! I would go through it again and again, what happened if it meant that Tony was safe. But he wasn’t safe. Do you get that? He should have been safe. That was my job.” He dropped his head back and covered his face with his hands. 

It surprised Steve that Natasha grasped his hand, squeezing it. “You know you did everything you could. It’s hard to accept. I’ve had to accept a lot about my mate. The position I put Clint in, where his family was in danger, I’ll never forget myself. What happened is as much my fault as anyone’s.” Her hand cooled him. He focused on it, the porcelain beauty of her touch. “Whatever I can do, I will. I know you don’t want to believe me now.”

Steve laid his head back again and blinked away the tears, the weight of what she’d told him pressed on his chest and each breath labored against his sternum. “But Tony is one of these Divini now. With powers of his own?” A weakness pervaded his muscles, his bones. He ached all over as the turmoil inside turned more physical and painful.

“Yes.”

“What does that mean?” His gaze went to the ceiling of the medbay. He feared looking at her, seeing how that question affected her expression. He didn’t want to see her eyes close off and her mouth thin set against revealing too much. “Is it just another name? Or is Tony really something different now?”

“Many things. What it mainly means is that Tony is immortal in many more ways now. He won’t need to feed off you. He’s stronger, has new abilities. For him the connection between you will be different as well. It will be something ethereal, more supernatural. Divini are not a threat. We cannot walk in the sunlight like vampires, but a wooden stake is not poison to us. We feed off the cosmic light of the stars.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Steve said. “Stars are just suns very far away.”

Her giggle drew him to look at her. Her attempt to wipe the smile off her face failed. “That’s just what Tony said. No one really knows where the power comes from. We know it’s cosmic but not how it works. Maybe the sun is just too close? That the power from it overloads us?” Natasha shrugged and then smiled wider. “Maybe Tony will figure it out.”

“Maybe,” Steve said and longed to see Tony. He needed him, needed to hold him, to know what they’d built hadn’t been destroyed by what had happened. How could Tony ever forgive him for not explaining what Ross and his lackies did to captured vampires on the rooftop of the Triskelion? He’d never confessed that he’d seen it. The horror of it haunted him; his imagination gave him a clear idea of what had happened to Tony. “Why do the Divini hide?”

 

“We have powers beyond what vampires have…what would you think people like Ross and Pierce would do if they knew?” Natasha waited as the reality slotted into place for him.

“They’d want to be Divini as well. They’d long for the power for themselves. They want to be Divini or they’d want to control you,” Steve whispered. With the release of tension, what little energy he’d had drained as well. Keeping his eyes open turned into a battle. “I think I want to be alone now.”

“Are you sure? I know it’s a lot to take in,” Natasha said but didn’t move.

“Yes, please.” 

She freed his hand, but she stroked it once. “You did a wonderful thing for him. Your sacrifice changed him. If you hadn’t, he’d be condemned.”

She left him then in the strangely stripped down Helicarrier. His mind spun, and dizziness threatened. Easing back into the thin pillow, Steve steadied himself, but his unsettled nerves pulsed and jittered. What Natasha had told him meant nothing and everything to him. In many ways, it frightened him. Grasping how it affected his life felt more like he’d caught a tiger by the tail. Any minute it would snap at him, biting away at him, devouring his hopes and dreams. 

When he searched his memory to figure out how he got on the Helicarrier, how he escaped the cell, Steve found nothing. How had he gotten away from Pierce and Ross? His brain pounded with an insistent ache. His memories fogged, and he slipped into an uneasy sleep. The turmoil growing inside of him seemed to take on a form, like a beast inside. He fought it through his dreams and nightmares. When he woke some hours later as evidenced by the light from the windows, Steve blinked to discover Tony sitting next to the bed. Steve sat up, though the room looped, and he swallowed down the nauseating bile.

“Tony!”

Tony jerked out of his reverie and smiled. He stood up. He looked good. Strong. Whole. Ethereal. An otherness radiated from him like the corona of the sun. The aura was unmistakable, though it disappeared as Tony gathered himself and stepped over to Steve’s bedside. Closer, Steve studied the changes in his love. His eyes – the irises were gold flecked with reds. His hands and chest shimmered with a low light as if he held the flames of the dawn in the palms of his hands and within the cage of his breast. 

Reaching out, Tony opened his hand as if to allow Steve inspection. In the center of his palm, the light pulsed but it quieted and then Steve saw the old wound from his torture. With tears forming, Steve looked up to Tony’s chest to see the wound there, beyond the glimmer of light in his chest. “No,” Steve whispered and then the tears flowed, and he wept. 

Tony brought his arms around Steve and held him close. The heat from his chest replaced the beat of a heart and filled Steve with such pain mixed with hope that he couldn’t parse his emotions, so the tears streaked down his cheeks. He knew what had happened to Tony. He’d witnessed it enough to understand the horror and the pain in the eyes of the vampires on the rooftop. He fumbled for Tony’s hand only to pull it away and stare at the scar that now shined with light. Steve had no words for its beauty other than otherworldly, supernatural energy. A celestial light embedded within Tony, so deep and enthralling that it must come from the stars, from the very depths of the cosmos. 

“Wh-,” he murmured. “What is it?” Steve met Tony’s gaze and saw his love had tear stains on his face as well – tears of blood. 

“Does it matter?” Tony asked, his words pitched and tenuous.

Steve heard the shivering fear in Tony’s voice. “No. No, it doesn’t matter. I just want to understand.” He grasped Tony’s hands in his and brought the pulsating light to his lips. Steve found he needed Tony’s strength and support. After all this time, the weakness latched onto him. He kissed each of Tony’s palms and a sliver of heat with the tingle of electricity went through him. “I just want to know you’re all right.”

“Funny,” Tony said, and his voice was laced with melancholy. “I wanted to know the same thing.” 

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Tony whispered and gently, almost tentatively held Steve to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve replied. He wanted to say – you did nothing wrong. But it seemed trite and stupid when he thought about it. He held onto Tony, and they stayed curled around one another for what seemed like forever. Steve needed Tony’s heat, the power within him. It supported Steve. His tears finally dried, or maybe he had no more left. When he tugged away, Steve noticed that Tony’s chest burned brighter still. He fingered the patch of light. It dimmed, and Tony smiled at Steve.

“It seems to follow my mood.” Tony grimaced. “Natasha said I’ll have to learn to control it, so it isn’t so obvious to the outside world. Eventually she said I should be able to.”

“What does it do?” Steve asked. His hand dropped from Tony’s chest to his own lap. Even that motion drained him of strength. He searched Tony’s expression as it shifted from sorrow to horror.

“It’s a weapon. It can incinerate anyone.” Tony showed Steve his hands. “These too. The ones on my feet help me levitate.”

“Like fly?”

The crack of laughter cut the air like an ax. It hurt to hear. “Yes. I suppose so.” He paused before he added, “It’s a lot to take in. I’m a harbinger of death now. Really. I thought as a vampire, when I was a vampire, I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I wouldn’t kill for the blood. But now I have this in my chest and hands and feet and I’m – I’m this other thing.”

“Natasha told me.” He wanted to say so much more but the thing inside him, the cancer, the turmoil – whatever it was – devour every last fiber of strength and endurance he had. An urge to sleep, to hibernate away from everything came over him. It hurt to deny it.

“I don’t even know what it means. Hell, I thought it was just gaining powers or something – that’s all. But it’s this other thing. I’m beyond immortal-.I don’t know. I can’t be killed with just anything. Sure, the sun still weakens me, but what happened to me-.” Tony stopped and gulped. Steve clasped his hand. “What happened on the roof – well, that can’t happen again. Ever.”

Steve wanted to express his relief but the whole of his body shivered, and he sank down against the pillow. Tony rubbed his shoulder and covered him with the thin blanket. “I’m sorry, Steve. What I did at the end of my life as a vampire or wraith or whatever it was, it was wrong. I drained nearly the last of your blood. You were so close to death. I don’t know if you remember, or how much you remember. You went in and out of consciousness.”

There was so much Steve wished he would never remember. He nodded to Tony. The weakness had settled into his bones and became a part of him. For Tony’s sake, Steve wanted to jump out of bed, wrap Tony in his arms, and show the same strength, commitment, and fortitude that he’d done for so many years as Captain America. The thing inside of him prevented him, though, some deeply hidden weakness that drilled down to the marrow of his bones. He watched as Tony sat down next to him in the bed, gathered Steve in his arms and held him against his chest. Tony spoke in low tones.

“You died when we got to the Helicarrier.” His voice quaked. Steve imagined a wobbling top spinning until all the rotations were over and it finally collapsed. Maybe that was what he was – nearly done with life. “They didn’t have any doctors here. It was decommissioned ages ago, but Fury and his little group of rebels managed to get it in the air and rescue us from the Triskelion. Thor and Bruce helped. I set the god damned place on fire. They saved us. All of us, even Clint’s family.” He gulped again, and it struck Steve that Tony didn’t breathe. Not as a vampire, but did he as a Divini? “You died, and I didn’t know what I could do. I gave you what I could.” Tony compulsively stroked his hands over Steve, on his chest, his shoulders, down his arms. “I gave you the blood that you gave me.”

“Wh-what?” Steve asked and then his body shuddered as if the air froze. “What are you saying?”

“I told Natasha not to talk to you about it, not to say anything,” Tony said. He ran his hands through his own hair, messing it. “I don’t know what happened, but you came back to life. You survived.”

“And?” Steve struggled to sit up, the weakness permeated his body. “What? Tony, what?”

“You aren’t a vampire, I’m pretty sure of that,” Tony said. He separated himself from Steve, getting off the bed, walking a distance to the windows. He stared out, his hands in pockets of ill-fitting jeans. “I couldn’t lose you. Natasha told me not to do it. Thor didn’t know what would happen.”

“What did happen?” He needed to know, the weakness impaled him but the desire to find out what had transpired energized him enough that he fought his way back to a sitting position. This thing, the blood inside of him, there was finally a reason. It wasn’t human. The weakness came from this other thing inside of him.

“We went to the roof,” Tony said. “After I killed everyone in the cell.” He looked down at his hands. “I drank from you-.” He stopped. “Crap that’s all backwards.” He rubbed at his face, smearing the blood tears away. He tried again, his whole demeanor brittle and broken. “They did that – you know – on the roof. After I was just a husk, nothing like I can describe to you. They brought this husk, this thing, this creature. God, it wasn’t even really me. It crawled over to you and drank and drank. It became – something. I became something.” He had been staring at the rising sun through the tinted windows, protected from its effects. “I killed them.” Turning he showed Steve his hands. “These aren’t just Christmas lights.” He laughed, and it cracked the air like a whip. “I killed them with these light beams from my hands and chest.”

When he fell silent, Steve prodded him to continue. “Yes?”

“And Natasha came, through the dimensions. She came and we all left. She couldn’t bring the humans through the dimensions. But Clint was there. I don’t know how. Or what. But he was there. We went to the roof. I didn’t want to go there. I wanted to go to the garage, get a car.” Tony shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself. He looked small and defeated. “You were so weak. So pale. Ashen really.” His words grew quieter, nearly mumbled.

Steve struggled to swing his legs over the bed, to slide off the side, and then stay on his feet as he padded across the floor. The tiles were cold against his bare feet. Without the blanket, the air chilled him. He only wore a t-shirt and boxers. He had no idea where they came from. The shirt was too small. He reached out and touched Tony. A connection like an arc of electricity locked them together. It tingled along his hand and up his arm, but he didn’t shy away from it. 

Tony shook his head. “I couldn’t stand it. I wouldn’t stand it. So, I killed them – all of them. Right then. Every part of me became something else. I was electricity. I was more than the lightning that Thor calls on. I was the corona of the sun. I burned them to ashes, but somehow never touched you or anyone with me.”

“God,” Steve spoke. He pulled Tony into his arms. 

Tony continued as he laid his head on Steve’s shoulder. “The Helicarrier I thought was the V-Corps coming to finish us off was actually Fury. Thor and Bruce helped us. I brought you here. But you were dead.” Steve kept still, not speaking, not breathing as he waited for the rest of the story. If he didn’t move, if he didn’t breath perhaps it was all a dream, a nightmare really. Yet he knew it to be true. His life was no longer his – something terrible and wonderful had happened. “I gave you my blood. I opened a vein and dribbled it into your mouth. You were dead. Your lips were gray, your face like ashes. No heart beat.” Steve knew he had a heart beat now. He wasn’t dead – he wasn’t a vampire. “I don’t know if the leftover serum saved you or my blood, but you’re alive now.”

“What am I?” Steve whispered and the fear welled up until it flooded him, drowning him with the truth. Whatever gathered inside of him, whatever supernatural power or demon – it was there. Steve knew it. Maybe the serum fought it, maybe that was why he felt so weak and debilitated. He wanted to ignore everything, even as his body shook with shock.

Tony hushed him, holding him close as he processed the information. He continued to talk, to supply more of the story as he lightly caressed and kissed Steve. 

“We’re South Pole, I think,” Tony said. “Fury’s looking for a friendly port. The US is in chaos. Even with Ross and Pierce gone there’s a strong contingency that’s poisoned in the US. You can’t just chop off the monster’s head and not thing there’s more to it than that.”

In a low voice Steve murmured, “Two more will take its place.”

“I never really understood that old Hydra adage, but now I do. I get it. You have to cleanse out all the poison not just the figureheads. I’m not sure what’s going on in the US, but it isn’t safe for us. Not for vampires, mates, Divini. No one can stay there.”

“How long can we stay aloft?” Steve said as he gazed out, spotting the icebergs and cold Antarctic Ocean. Tilting his head to spot the land below caused another wave of dizziness and weakness.

“Indefinitely. I can power the engines, believe it or not.” Tony pulled away and smiled. “I just need to be exposed to the night sky and I can power them.” He touched his chest.

“That’s not ideal.” Even though Steve understood very little of how the whole Divini worked and how Tony’s newfound power existed, something told him that draining Tony of his energy to fuel the Helicarrier was playing with fire. 

“No.” Tony placed an arm around Steve’s waist and guided him back to the bed. “Natasha called Peggy. She’s working hard as the head mistress of the European coven. She is trying her best to find a safe harbor for us. I thought you might like to know. They’re working on a solution.”

“Is Peggy a Divini?” Steve asked.

Tony shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I’m only just learning myself.” 

Steve fell onto the bed. “I feel like something inside of me is fighting to get out. It’s taking all of my strength away.” His shoulders and arms, his legs, everything loosened and slumped as he sat there on the bed.

“It’s probably the serum and the blood I gave you,” Tony said. “Bruce will come by and take a look.”

“He’s a vampire.”

“As much as he can be, yes.” Tony pushed forward without explaining his comment about Bruce. Steve never spent a great deal of time with Bruce, but from the few times he had, he accepted that Bruce had his reservations and issues. “Bruce has a history with understanding what it means to be a vampire. Not sure he gets whatever the hell I am right now, but he will. He’s a smart guy.”

Steve found himself listing to the side and Tony eased him down. Chills ran up and down Steve’s spine and raised gooseflesh. Steve bit back his fears, Tony didn’t need to know them. Tony put his warm hands on Steve. “Sleep, I’m here.”

Protests died on his lips. The energy to move, to speak, bled away until his eyes felt heavy and he followed the darkness down into slumber. As he drifted down into oblivion he would have liked to say goodbye one last time.

When he dreamt again, the worlds around him hung in low orbits as he walked along a field of stars. Once, a long time ago when they’d first met, Tony brought Steve to a planetarium and they sat through three shows discussing the possibilities of extra-solar system planets. As he arched his neck to see the skies above him now, it reminded him of those long ago days. The dark violet sky brimmed with orbs circling around him, colors of lavender mixed with verdant green and azure as well as crimson greeted him. The path he journeyed on flickered with the light of the stars. He laughed. It was another little thing he recalled from his nights with Tony – a Stairway to Heaven. 

The smile on his face ached as he laughed and wished to hold Tony one more time. Tony, though, was too far away, too distant. Where he wandered now, the air around him crackled with electricity but it did not harm. It soothed his broken soul like a salve. He welcomed it in; it reminded him of Tony. Walking further he came upon the light of day just over the ridge, beyond the star field he treaded upon. Standing at the edge, Steve saw the sheer drop as stars fell like waterfall cascade down into the endlessness of time and cosmos. Beyond he saw Sol rising high and warm against the backdrop though it never illuminated or distanced the stars. It became one of them. A light amongst the darkness. 

He peered over the cliff into the abyss where the stars disappeared and then he looked back at Sol in the distance beckoning him. Implicitly he understood the question. Fundamentally, Steve yearned to be warmed inside to his bones. The sun offered him that pleasure. He longed for the heat of it. For ages he’d been chilled and paralyzed by the cold. He gazed down into the chasm – where the cosmos elongated and vanished. The darkness echoed back to him, the coldness sweeping through him. A pulse and he felt the life he would leave behind and the beautiful agony ached. 

He would say goodbye to the sun, to Sol and all of the warmth and light of heaven. Instead he would welcome the veracity of night and its potency. Stepping forward, Steve fell. He fell through the ages, he fell through the darkness, he fell through the light. He fell into the stars.

He opened his eyes to Tony bending over him. Others were present as well, but he only felt Tony’s hands on him. He tried to speak but the sight of Tony’s tears stopped him. 

“Jesus, I thought I’d lost you again.”

He croaked out, “What?”

“You seemed to go into some kind of coma. You’ve been under for over a week.”

“What?”

“You’ve been in a coma for over a week, nine days to be exact.”

Steve didn’t recognize the voice at first and it took his weary eyes a minute to focus on Bruce who stood on the other side of the bed. Next to him was Natasha and finally Thor at the foot of the bed. The air around him felt different and he instantly knew he was no longer on the handicapped Helicarrier. 

“Where?” His voice sounded strange even to him. Blinking, the room around him made no sense. It looked sleek and modern, and technologically beyond what he’d seen as a V-Corps agent.

“We found safe harbor.” Natasha touched his shoulder and smiled. She stepped aside to allow him to look out the tinted windows to the lush jungle outside. “Wakanda. The leader of the Dora Milaje, Okoye, also happens to be a Divini, though most in the outside world know her as a vampire.” Natasha shrugged and smiled. “She’s a friend.”

“She is also the leader of all of our kind,” Thor added. His hair had been shorn and he wore a t-shirt and cotton pants. He looked comfortable and at ease – more so than Steve had ever seen him. “It is good to be in a place that welcomes us. It is also good to see you well again.”

Was he well again? His brain took forever to get up to speed. His bones jelled, and he blinked away the bleariness. Steve looked amongst them and his mind sluggishly tried to encapsulate everything he’d just heard. All he could respond was – “I thought – I thought - the Dora Milaje.” He paused to compose himself, to get the words out. “I thought they were a fighting force, guards to protect the King of Wakanda?”

“They are,” Natasha said. “She died for her king as a vampire and was resurrected. She can tell you more when you meet her.” 

Tony’s touch grounded Steve, and he clung to it as a child might clutch for safety. He glanced around the room – a hospital bay in a strange land. The weakness that had plagued him when he’d woken on the Helicarrier left only vague strands of memory. His strength returned as he breathed through the confusion. He felt his lung fill easily, his heart pump robustly, and he sighed in relief. Tony petted him and said, “We think you’ve turned the corner.”

“I’m not even sure what corner you’re talking about,” Steve said. He recalled all of what Tony had said, all of what had happened. He’d died and Tony resurrected him with vampire blood – no Divini blood. He lapsed into a coma and now fought his way out of it. The world felt bigger, grander than it had before, yet he couldn’t parse why he felt that way. It was as if he stumbled upon a great and wonderful secret. When he searched their faces he glimpsed smiles and pride amongst them. “What’s wrong? Why are you all here?”

“Because we think you may be the first human Divini.” Natasha’s words hit him with a force reminiscent of his plane crashing all those years ago. They cracked through his reserve, his normal stoicism. They rammed right into his gut until he struggled to take the next breath. Someone’s hand was on him, on his back. Someone was telling him to breathe. 

“Oh, you need to move aside. Seriously, all of you need to give the poor man room to breathe. You may not need to breathe, but he does.” As the group of Divini and vampire moved from the bed, a young teenaged girl with her dark hair done in braids on either side of her head greeted Steve. “How is my patient today?”

“Excuse me?” Steve said and, though he wasn’t dizzy the room oscillated, and he needed to swallow several times. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he’d never left the room in the Triskelion. Maybe they’d finally electrocuted him to death. His mind was making things up. A teenaged girl thought she was Steve’s doctor.

“Oh now, none of that,” the girl said and tugged his hands away from his face. “Aw, there’s Blue Eyes. You’re doing so much better now.” Her smile invited and eased his fears, though his doubts still niggled at him. The tension in his shoulders decreased. The teenager’s demeanor exuded friendliness and confidence. She clasped both of his hands in hers. “If we had left you to them, I cannot even tell you what would have happened. Seriously, they wanted to give you transfusions.” She eyed the group around him and tsked several times. “Thank goodness you got here when you did. As soon as I scanned you, we knew.”

“Knew?” He focused completely on her. Her exuberance lit the room.

“That you weren’t entirely human,” she said and then winked at him. She squeezed his hands. “I’m Shuri, by the way. And you’re Captain America. Glad to have you here. Glad I could help.”

The information pinged about in his head like an errant ball and he tried to catch it. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m sorry? I’m not human?” Steve recalled the story Tony told him, but he had a heartbeat. He was alive. They’d thrown out the term Divini. He knew Tony had given him blood to revive him, but all of the information went together as well as oil and water in his head. He couldn’t get anything to mix.

“Not entirely human,” Shuri replied. “It’s simple on a molecular level. We know now that vampirism is a kind of disease but it isn’t fatal, nor is it undead. When people get the disease their bodies change in reaction to the virus. To something that we cannot truly understand, but I am getting close!” There was a twinkle in her eyes. “Call the vampire state one of metamorphosis. Like a cocoon and a butterfly.”

He gave her a weak smile. “Yes, of course.” He still couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s the preternatural virus mixing with the physicality of human DNA. The Divini is just the next step along the way. The butterfly released from its cocoon.” Shuri shrugged like it was all so boring and obvious to her. “It is the next stage of their evolution with the supernatural viral components of their genome.”

Steve squinted at her and Tony chuckled. “Don’t worry, Steve. It just means we’re not evil undead in the end anyhow.” Tony considered Shuri. “It’s interesting that you accept that I left my body and then came back to it.”

“Oh,” Shuri said and then stepped away to check on one of the monitors. She tapped on her bracelet and then smiled at them. “The spiritual plane is something Wakanda has been studying for some time. It’s part of our King’s journey.”

“So what does it mean?” Steve said and moved to get out of the bed that seemed to double as an exam table. Tony stopped him but Shuri assured them it was fine. “You said the Divini are vampire’s next step, not a human’s?”

“That’s true,” Shuri said and folded her hands in front of her. The sunlight from the windows set the orange tunic she wore with its dazzling embroidery to a fiery glow. Steve looked at Tony, and at the others, and wondered about their safety. Shuri read him. “In Wakanda we do everything to ensure the safety of our vampire population. The windows are embedded with a nanotechnology that prevents the vampires from being weakened by the sun’s rays.”

It was good to hear that, to know that they truly had found a safe harbor. Steve stood up from the bed. His legs wobbled, and he held onto the side of the table. Disorientation came over him, he swayed. Tony grasped his arm to help him. He’d been foolish. He thought his strength had returned. Maybe this Divini thing cursed for humans. 

“I don’t know why you think I’m one of these Divini,” Steve said. Denying her assertation seemed like the best thing to do. He wanted to deny it all. He just wanted to be human. Yet, it seemed he wanted the impossible and the world conspired against him. 

“Your genome has changes in it,” Shuri said. “While I can’t be sure what it means since your genome already had changes due to the serum, I am certain that I see sequences similar to the Divini sequences.”

Tony translated for Steve. “It seems my newly changed Divini blood infected you and you’re changed now. We don’t know how but you’re not exactly who you were before.” Something dark shadowed Tony’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s give them some room,” Natasha said. She ushered everyone out of the room, but before she left she turned to them. “We need to talk about our next steps. Okoye will call a meeting of the Divini.” Natasha left with a lasting look at Tony. 

Once they were alone, Steve turned to Tony. His red and gold irises were startling and beautiful. He looked vibrant, almost unearthly in his radiance. Tony clasped Steve’s hand. Words clogged Steve’s throat, and he found tears burning his eyes again. “I don’t want to do this.” It was all he could say, and Tony dropped his hand, his features crestfallen and hollow.

“No, no!” Steve said and grabbed for Tony. “I mean.” He stopped and looked up, trying to control the flow of emotions. Never had he ever had such difficulties. A shield. Yes, a shield had been his weapon of choice, and it had been his defense. Both physically and metaphorically. As a child he built walls around his heart and his soul. Brick by brick he constructed the walls so that he was strong and sturdy, and no one could harm him. Not even the bullies that beat him in back alleys. Nothing broke his stoicism, his steady heart. 

But this.

“I can’t do this.” He waved at himself and then stepped away from Tony. He should be cold, the medical bay or laboratory or whatever it was had chilled tiles as he walked barefoot over to the windows. Wearing only a t-shirt and shorts, Steve shivered but knew it wasn’t from the outside environment, but from what ate at him inside. The explosion of information, new faces, expectant faces all collided in his brain and burst. Trying to shield himself from the consequences crumbled his inner defenses until all that he went through shoved up against his well constructed walls. “I can’t face this. Whatever it is.” His mind went back to the room, the cell where they held him and vampires fed off him, and his body responded to their injection of arousal hormones. His face heated in shame. And now this new information. About Divini. He was supposed to celebrate. How could he? Celebrate his debasement? Never. The humiliation and weakness. It hit him like running into a brick wall. 

Everything had been fine. He handled it all. Throughout waking up and feeling like he had a cancer growing in him, he dealt with it. Hearing Natasha and Tony speak to him about Tony’s transformation – he listened and accepted it. Sure, he’d been overwhelmed and the debilitating sickness that trapped him had eventually won out until he lapsed into what they said was a coma. But still, he managed to ignore the obvious, the horrible lurking shadows in his brain. The memories of his torture. 

“You don’t know.” He covered his face with his hands. “You don’t know what I did.” He didn’t deserve to have a new life – not after what had happened.

Whisper quiet, Tony came to stand next to him. His hands gently pulled Steve around, revealing Steve’s shame. “Tell me.”

Steve shook his head. His body remembered every touch, every stroke. He recalled how they suckled at him, how they brought him to anxious heights as he struggled against the stimulation. When they finally allowed him release how he sank into the endorphins with relish like a hungry man at a feast. Only his feast would be tainted by the hell of shame. He recalled how they brought in more than one at a time, how they touched him, how they fucked him. “No, I can’t tell you.” He came every time. His body climaxed and came. And how he found refuge in those climaxes – an escape. He’d blocked it all out when he first woke up. Maybe his weaknesses helped him, protected him then, but now as his strength was reset, it marched back to him like an invasion.

Tentatively, Tony stroked Steve’s hair out of his eyes. “They fed off you.”

Steve remained perfectly still. Frozen by the words. It didn’t matter that they told him he was transformed, that he was this Divini. He was nothing but that thing in the cell, devoured and used.

“No,” Steve said and stepped away from Tony. The thought of touch repulsed him then. He separated himself. He didn’t want touch. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“Steve,” Tony said but kept his distance. “I don’t know what you remember and what you don’t remember. But I can see from your expression, you’re terrified.”

Steve’s hands sweated, and he rubbed them on his shirt. Talking about this – about everything right now – drowned him in the memories. The feel of them crawling over him, sucking out his blood, forcing their hands, their fingers, their fists into him. He stifled a sob. “You don’t know. You can’t. You’re one of them!” 

The shock on Tony’s face cut through Steve hard, faster than any knife or weapon. Steve wanted to cross the distance, he wanted to take Tony into his arms, but the courage, the bravery he had always been heralded for – that reservoir he could always count on – just wasn’t there. He curled up and hugged his arms around himself as he watched Tony deflate with his words. 

Shaking his head several times, Tony blinked and said, “I get it. I do.” He hissed. “I understand. I’ll give you some space, okay? You need space. Shuri said there are clothes in the cabinets over there.” He pointed behind Steve. “When you need me all you need to do is.” He shook his head. “Just ask someone.” He escaped before Steve could say a word. 

Steve found himself staring at the door and then he shuffled over to the window again. Sinking down onto the floor crosslegged, he focused on the lush green vegetation, the denseness of the jungle and the sprawling city beyond it. He sat. He stared. But all he saw was the inside of a dark cell. All he felt were their hands on him. 

Steve moved through the days as they transferred him to a private apartment in the palace. He thanked them. He went to the balcony and hoped that they were wrong. That Shuri and the other vampires and Divini were wrong. That he would burst into flames or the sun would make him weak. Nothing happened. He sat out in the sun and not even the blinding light penetrated the darkness. The cell became everything. It transformed his breathing, his life, his heart beat. He began to hate the blood inside of him. He thought of ways to drain it, he spiraled further and further until he longed for the darkness, but all he could see was the sun. If he stayed in the sun, then he would be damned for his humanness. If he went to the dark, then he would be damned with the memory of the cell. 

  
  


Night and day melded together. He saw Tony, but they didn’t speak not at length. Instead, Tony brought him food and took away bowls and plates barely touched. Tony never drank from Steve – he didn’t need to anymore. Most of the time, when Tony appeared carrying a tray with delicacies, Steve went to the balcony and stood in the sun, a place where Tony could not touch him. Steve took to bringing blankets and pillows out onto the balcony at night and sleeping under the stars as if it would give him further protection. It was open and airy. He listened to the night birds and the rustling in the jungle – the sounds of life in the city below him. It comforted him, but it never deafened him to the pounding of his heart, the swoosh of his blood – the blood that became the elixir to change Tony but had also been the curse that fed all the vampires and helped Steve’s body betray him.

In mornings he went to the bathroom and studied his reflection in the mirror. Strange eyes looked out at him, strange not in color but in substance. His soul metamorphized into something brittle that snapped like a dead twig. Hollow inside. Steve went through the motions of shaving and stared at his open razor with a kind of wanton delight. It glinted in the light of the bathroom and then he saw his mother standing in the mirror.

“Your father used one just like that.”

“Did he?” Steve asked. He thought about his father in a fox hole, ragged with a beard and nowhere to shave. The bombs exploded around him, the mud up to his knees, the misery deeper still. “I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to make you proud. You only knew me as a failure. That’s all I am. I thought I was something bigger, something larger.”

“And you are.” His mother smiled. “You always will be. Nothing about you was ever a failure, Steven. Nothing. You always stood up. You always fought.”

“I tried, Momma, I tried,” he whispered and dropped the knife in the sink. The blood in his veins pounded in his brain and he clutched onto the edge of the counter. “I tried but I couldn’t stop them. I could never stop them.”

“But he did, didn’t he?” The voice wasn’t his mother’s. He didn’t place it. Disorientation grew but he blinked away the tears as the woman continued, “You were strong – strong to keep fighting for life. And he was there, and he stopped them. Didn’t he? Tony – your mate – stopped them.”

Tears blinded him. “I’m not even his mate anymore. He doesn’t need my blood. He needs nothing from me.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” she said, and a hand touched his arm to turn him around. He followed the gentle direction and gasped as he saw her.

“Peggy.” Seeing her standing in the ensuite bathroom brought back the memories of their days long ago. The nights she would sit by the campfire with him, discussing life spent and the battles ahead. How she would talk of her hopes that vampires would be accepted after the war. They’d made major contributions especially for sabotage and night raids. The Howling Commandoes wouldn’t have been as successful without the assistance of the vampires in the unit. 

“Come out here, Steve. Sit down.” She stepped into the bedroom and sat on the bed. She still looked like the woman he knew all those ages ago. He felt naked in front of her though he wore a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt. On the other hand, she wore a smart white blouse and a dark skirt. “It’s too bad you haven’t joined us for any of our meetings with the Divini.”

“I don’t know what they told you, but I’m just human. Or enhanced like I always was with the super soldier serum. There’s nothing special about me.” He almost said he was just a kid from Brooklyn, but those days were centuries ago – or so it seemed – and he hadn’t been back to his life in years. 

“Well, either way, they need a good man with a steady head on his shoulders,” she said and then patted the bed next to her.

He accepted the invitation. Words jumbled in his head. It had been weeks since he actually put together a conversation worthy of more than a few sentences. He’d kept to himself. He asked for privacy and they gave it to him without any qualms or pressure. So, his words were dry dust in his mouth. “I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you want to say?” She eyed him as he sat down, as his shoulders slumped, as all the pain drained through him and left him open and aching. 

“I always listened to my mother. I always stood up. I always fought the good fight. Now I don’t know what the good fight is anymore,” Steve said. He didn’t look at her. He picked at his perfect fingernail, peeling away the cuticle until he left it bloody. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

He slid his other thumbnail into the bloody one, carving out more skin. “I wanted to kill them.” Did she know everything? Had anyone told her what they’d done to him? “I wanted to kill them, the vampires that fed off me, when I was – when I was capture. I knew they were being forced to-forced to do those things to me.”

“You have every right to protect yourself, Steve,” Peggy said. She never touched him, never forced him to stop ripping away at his nail bed. “You endured horrible things. No one should. No one. Not human. Not vampire. Not Divini.”

“But I knew they were forced. As much as I was,” Steve said. “But I wanted to kill them. I wanted to stop them for making me-.” He ran out of breath and then stood up walked to the far wall and stood against it with hands in his pockets. “And now, what am I if I’m not them. I’m just as bad. I wanted to do the worst things to them. I’m not a good man. I’m not a good soldier. I just wanted t-.”

“You wanted to have the right to live without pain,” Peggy said. “You’re allowed that, Steve.” She supported him even as she stood a few steps away from him, giving him the space he needed. “You’re safe now.”

He nodded. He knew that. Logically, he understood it. But his blood was still the blood that Pierce and Ross hungered after even if they were dead. There would be others, others who would seek him out, hunt him down, drain him again and again. He’d offered his blood to Tony – a long time ago – in a Blood Den. “When I went to the Blood Den -.” He started. “When I went to that first Blood Den all those years ago and I met Tony, I had no intention of leaving alive. I wanted to die. I don’t fit in here. I never did. Not then, not now. Tony saved me then.” He sighed, and no relief of tension would help him. He didn’t mention that Tony had saved him again.

“Steve,” Peggy said quietly. Her hand lightly brushed his arm but did not stay. “You can live here peacefully and no one will think anything of it. No one will think poorly of you. You deserve some peace and some safety. But if you decide that it isn’t enough, if you decide that you have fight left in you, then we’re here for you. We’re waiting. We want to change things. We’re not going to settle again. This is the beginning, not the end. This is the start of it.”

“How?” Steve turned around and looked at her, really saw her for the first time in over eighty years. While her features were timeless, Steve detected around her eyes and the way she set her mouth a kind of exhaustion that came from years of fighting an uphill battle with no hope of winning. She wasn’t here to beg him, but in her eyes – she implored him to listen, to help their cause. To fight the battle, to win the unspoken war. “You’re asking me.” Steve stopped. 

“I’m asking you to be Captain America,” Peggy said. The profundity in her words stretched out, encompassing them in the dim bedroom. “So many have lost their way. Your country is lost to us. Right now, it’s gone. There’s martial law being declared. Vampires are being rounded up. If we don’t do something the American dream, your dream, dies, Steve. I’m not asking for just us. I’m asking you to fight for the soul of your country.”

As a child he learned about an unblemished nation, but of course, those were fairy tales. Every nation on Earth carried its burden of the past – its sins and transgression. America just seemed to carry more because every single advance forward was marked with steps backward and the blood of the innocent. As a symbol of that country, Steve recognized years ago his duty to be more, to stand taller, to be the kind of person that a desperate, blemished country needed. Yet he was as stained and as tarnished as the rest. Maybe once he could have done it, but now?

Peggy seemed to read his thoughts. “Whatever they did to you, Steve, it isn’t your fault. Don’t let them win. You can’t.” She started toward the door, but he stopped her.

“How did you know to come… I mean, how did you know to come to me?” 

Her eyes softened in that beautiful, elegant way they always did for him. “Tony told me. He loves you very much, you know.”

Steve swallowed back his reply and only nodded in response. Her heels clicked all the way down the hallway as she left. He didn’t move out of the bedroom then. He sank back down on the bed to sit and then his entire body followed. Lying on the bed, splayed out, he closed his eyes and saw the dreams again. He walked amongst new people and new worlds now. That place of his youth had been a myth, a tale that mothers tell their children so they won’t be scared in their own home. But this new place, these new hopes and dreams, presented a new dawning, new possibilities for the future. It meant releasing the fantasy of the past. His naïve beliefs of the good of the people within his own government. It meant betraying his government. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes, light shone in from the windows and in the corner chair Tony sat waiting for him to awake. Steve sat up, not surprised somehow to see this mysterious, ambiguous version of Tony watching him. 

“Did you sleep well?” Tony asked. His hands were at his sides. He looked relaxed. His eyes, though, flittered around the room, jumping and skittering. 

“Yes.” He realized he wasn’t lying. For the first time in weeks his dreams hadn’t bothered him. Sitting up, Steve said, “Peggy came to visit me.”

“Yes, I know,” Tony said. “Most of the coven leaders and the Divini are here. It’s like a convention but without all the booze and drugs.”

“Lots of blood though,” Steve said, meaning for it to be light and funny, but it fell flat.

Silence eeked out the next few minutes until Tony took in a useless breath and then released it. “I want to tell you. I understand. You went through a lot. So did I.” 

“I know,” Steve said, and a pang of guilt hit him. What Tony had been through – was there a barometer that said which was worse? Crucifixion or rape. Or was it the same thing? The violation of their bodies and their minds in every way possible. 

Tony raised his hand, warding off any further explanation from Steve. “I don’t want to get into who had it worse. It stunk. Our own country did that to us. They tore apart everything. They turned me into this thing. And they-.” He stood up and Steve saw, for the first time, that his whole body shivered. “They tore us apart. They ripped everything away from us. And just for that, I want to kill them all over again. I want to go back to the States and I want to burn it to the ground. I want to fuck them over like they did to us. And you want to know why?” He didn’t give Steve a chance to answer. “Why? Because they took you – you, the most important person in the god damned world, away from me. I promised you, years ago, that we would be together and that I would be there for you.”

“I promised you the same thing,” Steve said. He had. As caretaker, as mate, it was his duty. 

“And they destroyed all of that,” Tony said. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. “I would burn them to the ground and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“They didn’t destroy it – not all of it.” Steve gazed up at Tony. “I’m not giving up, Tony. I never said I was.”

“You won’t even see me. You don’t want to talk to me. You stand-.” He pointed to the balcony. “You run away from me.” 

“And that’s not fair,” Steve said, his voice cracking. “You died for me. You resurrected me. But, even -.” He halted as the words clogged up in his throat again, spasming. He fought away the tears. “Even then you never gave up on me. I want to be there for you. I want to be there for everyone. But maybe there’s nothing of me left. Maybe I tried and tried. And I feel like I walked into a different dimension with Nat. That this isn’t the reality I thought I was in. My world had hope – now what is happening? Why is this happening?” He wiped away the tears, angry that he’d broken down again. “I don’t want to run away from you. I don’t want to feel the terror in the dark anymore. I want to feel you next to me. I want to touch you and know that it will be okay. But I’m not sure- I don’t.”

Tony stood in front of him, just inches away. “Let me show you. Let me just hold you for a second. For a breath.” Tony shook, quaked as he waited for Steve to answer. His fear struck the room into another silence. 

Steve inhaled and exhaled, measured and repeatedly for a few breaths before he nodded. He got to his feet and Tony opened his arms. “Just for a moment.” He slipped his arms around Steve as if he might shatter. Part of Steve cracked and threatened to fracture, but he watched as Tony held him. His arms didn’t tighten, his fangs now more vestigial than real never punctured. Part of Steve missed the comfort of Tony next to him, the sweet smell, the brush of his silky soft skin. Yet another part repulsed the touch and Steve sidestepped away from Tony too soon. To anyone else Tony’s features never changed, but to Steve – he caught the slight frown, the sadness tarnishing his shadowed eyes. 

“It’s not you,” Steve said. The worry welled up that they had been destroyed – completely and soundly –by men who hated everything except themselves. 

“I know that,” Tony said – maybe a little too fast, a little too sharp. He closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded again. “I do get it. I do. It’s just.” He halted and ran a hand through his hair. The silence swallowed up the room before Tony started again. “I need you.” He looked away. “I need you to be with me, to -. I need to know we’re going to be okay. After- after all that happened, I can’t take this.” He slammed a fisted hand into his chest. “I can’t take this if you’re not at my side. I’m not ready for this. I don’t want it. I’d rather have died on that rooftop if I can’t have you.”

“Tony, don’t say that,” Steve protested. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.” He wanted to add – stronger than me, but he stopped.

“Am I people? Have you looked at my eyes? I look like a fucking android. I have energy that comes out of me as if I’m wearing a suit of armor. What the hell am I now, if I’m not with you?” Distress and anger marred his voice. He cursed. “Shit, I shouldn’t be putting this on you. You’re recovering and I’m here fucking you up.”

“Considering that even Natasha when she came and visited treated me with kid gloves, it feels nice to see someone’s honest reaction.” For the first time since he woke up from the coma, Steve felt present, fixed, anchored to the world. During his self-imposed isolation, he floated about as if he might simply drift away on the air currents. No words or thoughts solidified in his head. Yet, now as Tony broke down and wrestled with his own demons, Steve’s purpose and connection re-appeared. Undeniably, the feeling to touch and to hold came over him. 

He reached out to Tony and slowly encompassed him, arms loose but encircling him. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I never prepared you for what would happen if we got caught. I knew what happened up there on that rooftop. I knew it.” He chided himself for standing in the sun the many times that Tony had come to deliver food or just to keep him company. “I knew, and I never told you. I tried my best to make sure vampires didn’t end up there. You have to believe that-.”

“No,” Tony said, his voice firm. Steve swallowed down his fear, his uncertainty. “No, you don’t get to do that if I don’t. Neither of us is to blame. Those fuckers are!” Tony had pulled away as he spoke. “What they did, we can’t let it defeat us. We can’t let them defeat us. We don’t have much to work with here, I know, but if we give up, if we surrender.”

“They win.” Steve cut in. “I know. But it’s okay once in a while to take a moment to breathe, or in your case to just be.”

“God, I know,” Tony said as he slid his hand up to cup Steve’s cheek. Blood tears glistened in those strangely alien eyes. “I know. I just want to be with you. I want to hold you. I want those bastards to never have touched you.”

Every word rooted deep within Steve, tangling with his doubts and growing through the terrors that followed him into the night. He raised his hand and smoothed a finger down Tony’s face, staring into those alien eyes. Yet, he saw not the eyes of a Divini, but the soul of someone he loved, the man he loved, the one he’d trusted all those years ago to save him from the brink of despair. Now, that same man stood before him, both of them dangling over the abyss with only each other to hold onto and hope for salvation. 

Tony shivered under his touch and a single blood tear trailed down his cheek. “Tell me what you see?”

The fact that Tony asked that brought to the fore the fear they both shared. Steve cupped Tony’s face with his hands, purposefully staring into those faceted eyes that seemed to shimmer with gold flecked crimson. “I see the man that I love.” It was true. All of it. The horror drilled straight through to the marrow of his bones, the terror struck there, but also the lasting, enduring love for Tony. A love that healed him once and would again. Not everything would be easy, but their love presented a new day, a new hope for them to survive the torment and agony they suffered. 

Tony bowed his head and then nuzzled closer to Steve, being careful with how much personal space he took. In the end, Steve ushered them over to the bed and they spent the rest of the day curled around one another, talking only minimally but always touching. Steve admitted that the brush of a hand or a simple kiss startled and stunned his emotional response. Tony considered his needs and touched but always telegraphed it. It helped. 

By the time dawn streamed in through the tinted windows, they had rested for hours but also stepped towards learning each other again.

“So, you don’t drink blood anymore?” Steve finally had the courage to ask.

“No,” Tony replied as he drew a finger up Steve’s bicep. “I don’t even want it.”

“It’s a night thing then?” A lot of what happened to Steve directly after he was rescued remained muddled in his brain.

“Starlight.” Tony shrugged. “I have a bed that’s on a balcony. I just rest a few hours every night, right after the sun’s gone down.”

“So during the day?” 

“During the day, the sun still weakens me,” Tony said. 

Steve thought about it, turned it over in his head. “But you always rest and get your energy from twilight?” 

“Something like that. I mean, I can get some later during the night, but then that means I’m wasting time I can be up and doing things outside,” Tony said.

“In the evening? Doesn’t that mean the sun still has some light hitting the Earth?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, it does.” Tony paused and made a few ‘hm’ noises. “You know, I think you got something there. We’re not getting our energy from the stars – they’re too far away. Son of a bitch.” Tony sat up. “You’re right. The sun is too close and that’s why it’s too much for our bodies to handle all of that energy. It’s not the same for vampires, but shit for the Divini – we just might need -.”

“Sunscreen,” Steve said and laughed. It was the first time he’d laughed in weeks. “You need sunscreen!” 

“Well, a little more than that.” The dark shadowed response chilled Steve.

“Shit!” Steve reached for Tony as he shifted away on the bed. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. God, Tony. I didn’t mean anything by it.” The idea that he would joke about the torture that Tony had gone through repulsed him. 

Tony stretched back to Steve and grasped his hand. “No. Don’t worry. It’s just uncomfortable for me to think about.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Steve said and then to turn the subject around and keep them inching step by step toward recovery in their relationship, he added, “By the way I think this whole thing that I’m Divini too is a lot of hooey.”

“Hooey?” This time Tony chuckled. “Hooey?”

Steve got up from the bed and winked. “Yeah hooey. Like I can go out in the sun. I don’t have any powers. I’m just me.” He shrugged. “Well, me with serum.”

“Well, Shuri seems to know her stuff,” Tony remarked but left it there. Steve appreciated the non-confrontational way Tony brought up the facts. It helped. So much had happened that adjusting to the changes wouldn’t be easy. 

Steve stood up and walked to the window. Long and narrow, it still had a breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding the city and the jungle beyond it. Yet he was blind to the beauty. Adjustment to the new world he found himself in might be too much of a load to handle. Admitting that – as Captain America – felt like saying he had no hope left. The light from the window streamed in, but Steve only saw the shadowed darkness of the cell. The mocking words of Pierce and Ross as the vampires fed off him, ate his will, and destroyed all hope. His hands shook and the bindings, the chains that had once bound him, clanked. They touched him and in the most subtle and depraved way, broke him. Shattered. Taken. 

Blind spots flickered in his field of vision as he turned to look at Tony who stood right next to him. In quiet voice, Tony whispered, “Hey.” Somehow he read that the mood shifted and Steve battled those inner demons again. 

“Hey,” Tony said. He thumbed over his shoulder. “Just got a message. I thought you might want to know, Natasha is on her way back.” Tony lightly stroked Steve’s arm. “You don’t have to deal with it.” He changed his tune. “ _We_ don’t have to deal with it. At all. We can stay here.”

Steve smirked. He had been so out of touch with everything, he hadn’t even known she was gone. Over the last few weeks since he finally woke up and walked out of the medical lab in Wakanda, he’d cocooned himself in his little apartment. It wasn’t that he didn’t care what was happening in the outside world. He wasn’t that he didn’t want to know what was happening. It was that he didn’t know if the outside world would consume what was left of him before he managed to piece himself back together. 

The last night with Tony helped. It shifted his view. A bit. But miracles were fantasy, and recovery was a process. He knew that. He saw enough of his father’s generation come home from World War I mad with shell shock. It took time, a commodity that none of them had to spend these days. 

He cleared his throat and tried to put on his best Captain America voice. “Yeah? Where’d she go?” His hands were buried deep in his pockets.

“She went to the US, home. Trying to find as many vampires and mates as possible. Sympathizers. Seems things are getting even nastier. Lending support where she can. Thor’s been helping too.” Tony moved slightly away, stayed apart from Steve, but he stepped into the stream of sunlight. 

“That’s good of her, of them,” Steve said. He should be out there, fighting the good fight. But what fight did he have left in him? He glanced down at his wrists. The memory of the shackles still haunted him. It had only been a day. How could a day take everything away? He shouldn’t ask that question. Steve was, after all, only human, regardless of what Shuri said. “I should have been there with them.”

“No. Neither of us needed to be there.” Tony corrected. “I know what you’re thinking. You think just because you’re Captain America you should pull up your bootstraps and just deal with it. But I’m not doing that, and you don’t have to either.”

“I know.” Steve smiled yet it ached. “I understand. Intellectually, I get it. But I keep telling myself it was only a day. A day. How could something that only took a day deplete me.”

“It has nothing to do with the time it took,” Tony said, and his hands shook as he held them in front of him. “I look at my hands and I see what they did. I will never not see it. I will never not feel it. I will never be free of it.”

Steve bit back his words as he nodded. Tony understood so much more than Steve gave him credit for. The memory of those vampires, touching him, stroking him. The memory of his body betraying him would lurk around corners, always haunt him. He wanted to be free of it.

In a leap to jump away from the pain threatening to overwhelm him, Steve went back to the subject at hand – Natasha’s trip to the US. “I suppose Clint was with her?” It would be nice to see Clint again. Talk about what happened, thank him as well as understand him. They had bridge to rebuild between them and Steve wished for the opportunity to see if it was possible.

“No,” Tony said. “Clint and his family went into hiding. Natasha helped them. Clint’s wife is due soon. They have to be safe.” Tony shook his head. “I don’t know. They might be here, they might be somewhere else. Natasha knows where they are, but she’s keeping it to herself. Thor and Nat should be here in the next hour or so.”

“Great,” Steve said and went to turn back to the window.

“Do you-.” Tony stopped. “Do you still want company? Do you still want me around?”

Those words so fatalistic in their delivery made a direct hit to Steve’s heart. “Yes, I want you around.” Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I haven’t been fair to you Tony. I am sorry about that. It wasn’t you.” His voice faded, cracking. He bowed his head. They were almost there – so close to the edge of the border to the land of light and recovery.

“Hey, you get to take your time. Just like me.” Tony reached out and touched Steve’s hand. “Come. The river walk I heard is fantastic.”

Steve glanced out at the sun and then back to Tony. “It’s protected?”

“Yes, my mate, it is.”

Before Steve accepted the offered hand, he bowed his head and said, “Is that still true? Are we still mates?”

Tony closed the small distance between them and clasped Steve’s shoulders, rubbing them. “For me, you were always more than just a caretaker and a meal. You were and always will be my love.” His eyes – those eyes so strange and alien – never left Steve’s gaze. Tony implored him with those eyes – red and gold glinting in the filtered sunlight. “Always.”

Steve crossed his hands over his chest and placed his hands over Tony’s. The silky softness of his skin, the realness of him anchored Steve. He’d spent so many hours loose and lost in the winds of change as if his body failed to find a safe port in the storm that silently raged within it. He swallowed down those fears and said, “Always?”

“Yes, always.” Tony turned around and offered his arm to Steve. “Let’s go and stroll down the river walk and see the sights. You’ve been closed away for too long and I need to see the sun.”

Steve agreed.

For him as they roamed the river walk, the merchants and the people especially the children brought life back to his soul, to his heart after it hibernated for so long. He knew that the events damaged his soul and that time and effort would only partially renew it. He needed to rejuvenate and change his impressions of the world in order to survive and recover. As they looked over the merchandise and he ate delicious local cuisine, Steve observed the same tentative acceptance of this new life in Tony’s demeanor and expressions. Tony meekly touched articles, art, crafts, mechanical gizmos as if asking for some silent permission. When he walked in the sun under the canopy of the dome’s force field, he did it with trepidation and Steve ended up purchasing an umbrella to use. The tightness in Tony’s shoulders dissipated as they sat by the river and listened to the sounds of life behind them.

“We’re different now,” Steve stated. “We’ve both been through so much, but this – this changed everything. We died and came back very different, very much separated from the lives we used to live.” 

“And what comes next?” Tony shook his head as he picked apart the shaft of a grass blade. “I don’t know.”

Steve placed his hand over Tony’s. “If not for you I would be dead or worse.”

“Don’t say that.” Tony tossed the blade away, disrupting Steve’s touch. 

“It’s true.” Steve grasped Tony’s hand again. “If I have to be this thing, this Divini thing, I’m glad it’s with you.”

“Are you?” Tony looked up at Steve – even the paleness of his skin looked refined and sculpted in the daylight. The way he asked the question, though, showed Steve the very core of Tony’s self-hatred.

“Yes.” Steve squeezed his hand. They sat on the riverbank for the rest of the hour as they waited for Natasha and news of the coming storm from America.

The news wasn’t good. 

When they arrived at the royal compound, Natasha’s quinjet had just landed and sirens blared across the grounds. One of the Dora Milaje met them on the steps of the palace and escorted them through the bustling hallways. Guards and Dora Milaje swarmed through the palace. The guards had an emblem of the sun on their chests and walked paired with the Dora Milaje. Steve wondered if they were mates of some of the vampires with the Dora Milaje’s ranks. As they approached the medical wing, Steve caught sight of several floating gurneys being guided through the corridors to the main triage area. Shuri directed the chaotic scene, but as Steve approached he realized that it was more orderly and efficient than it first appeared. Shuri reviewed each of the patients with a doctor or nurse at her side. She assessed and then gave the information to her medical staff. They quickly ushered the gurnies to the required area of the medical bay and began their work to save the patient. 

One of the patients that Shuri evaluated looked more like a bundle of wounds than anything else. Natasha met Steve and Tony, her expression dark. “It’s terrible. The whole of America has gone crazy. We have to do something.”

“We will,” Tony replied.

She muttered in Russian and then shifted her attention to Steve only. “I’m sorry. He was your friend, I know. There was nothing I could do. They got to him before we arrived. I don’t think Shuri can save him.”

The words made no sense at all to Steve. Like pellets of hail they hit him, stinging and bruising. He wanted to close his eyes to the onslaught, but he remained firm fighting the fear. “What?” he said and looked around her. “Who?”

“Wilson,” Natasha said. “Sam Wilson.” Natasha spun on her heels to face the table where Shuri and the medical crew desperately fought to save Sam – or what was left of him. 

The name exploded in Steve’s head like a bomb, but the blast had no sound. The perfection of silence enveloped him, encasing him in disbelief. _No. No. No._ Steve had left Sam safe at home in DC. None of what Natasha said made any sense. Instead it formed a sinking hole in his heart. Steve teetered on the opening maw of the abyss. While he’d hid away, tried to stay away from it all and lick his wounds like some beaten dog, the world marched on without him. Marching to a drum roll of intolerance and hatred. No. He’d failed his duty. His sworn duty as soldier in the Army had been to protect. But what had happened? The country he loved roiled and turned rank with despicable deeds. 

Someone was talking to him and then stroked his arm. “Steve? Steve? Are you okay?” Tony asked. The red of his irises shone bright as if the fear and anger roiling inside of Steve boiled in Tony as well. “Do you need to sit down?”

“No!” He shoved Tony away, knowing it hurt him, knowing it signified a kind of breaking away from their mutual seclusion from the hell that surrounded them. “No, I’m sorry but, I need to see him. Now. I need to see him.” He had to act. He couldn’t curl up and hide any longer.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Natasha said. “He’s in bad shape.”

“No one would blame you,” Tony said. His voice sounded small and very far away.

“I would,” Steve said and headed to the examination table only to stop, to pause in horror, too stunned with despair to make a sound. What lay on the table wasn’t human – not anymore – but the remnants of what had been his friend. Like a marionette puppet his limbs were barely attached to his torso – strings of ligaments, frail and thin, held them to Sam’s body. There was a hole in his chest – deep and wide. Someone had tried to patch it, but even the best medicine would never heal the wounds riddling his body. Half of his face – Steve cringed and turned away. It was a miracle that Sam still lived at all. Steve’s whole body shivered in sorrow and anguish. 

He’d done this himself. With his inactivity, by hiding away. By allowing the crush of the dark cell to control him. He’d done this. “I did this. This is my fault.”

“God, no!” Tony said and clamped his hand around Steve’s limp hand. “No. Don’t say that.”

“I led them to Sam. I never checked in with him-.”

“I didn’t check in with Happy, or Pepper, or even Rhodey!” Tony yanked Steve to look at him. “I got lucky. They got out. But did Natasha get lucky with Clint? No! Clint had been made ages ago and forced to work for them because of his family. Thank whomever you believe in that they’re safe now.” He rubbed Steve’s shoulder. “No! You don’t get to take this burden on your shoulders as well. None of us do. They did this to our friends. Those bastards. Not us. Them!”

“I didn’t think of the consequences. I have to-.”

Tony and Natasha grabbed him, keeping him away from the table. “Don’t, Steve. God! Don’t.” Tony’s voice broke, crackling into near sobs as Steve struggled. “It won’t do any good for you.”

“Not him! Why did they do this to him?” Steve said. He jerked against their embrace. “He’s innocent. All he did was help me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Natasha said. Her eyes and voice were as cold as the Russian winters. “To them, we’re all a moment’s notice from what they did to your friend.”

Steve yanked away from them, glaring at Natasha. “No. No, we’re not. Not him. Not us. Never!” He went to the table. Looked at what was left of his friend. A holograph hanging above Sam monitored what little life was left – not much. Just a beat or two. Steve looked down at Sam through tears. The medical personnel stopped their work, frozen as he stood there, staring at the last vestiges of life. Steve placed his hand on what little remained of Sam’s face. 

“Not now.” He could have asked for a vampire to please, please save him. He could have begged for Shuri to perform some magical scientific intervention to bring his friend back to him. Nothing mattered. It wasn’t their responsibility. Steve had done this – Steve had left Sam to fend for himself, thinking that saner minds would prevail.

Not now.

There were no sane minds in blind injustice. They say that justice is blind, but what if justice was stolen and made to see, but only with one eye. The other blind to the rest of the society. Sanity would not triumph. 

The pain constricted Steve’s chest and he blinked away the tears. “No.” In a whisper, Steve murmured, “Not today.”

It was a subtle thing, nothing momentous, nothing too earth shattering. His hands warmed, and Steve knew to lay them down on Sam’s wrecked body. No wish or prayer came to his lips, just the truth of what should be. “Not today.” 

The coolness of a dying body under his hands transformed, shifted and heated to life. Vessels and nerves pulsated and reanimated. Life. At his fingertips. He brushed his hands down the length of Sam’s chest and the ripped holes knitted together, the tissue, the cells regenerated as he touched and concentrated. The tissues wove together as his fingers lingered as if he was a pianist and he tapped each key with a loving touch. The music of life burst forth. A halo of energy wrapped around them. As Steve followed his instincts he heard someone gasp next to him. Even as the healing drained him, Steve furiously worked to stitch all the wounds, to heal with the life energy at his fingertips. He needed more, though. The internal energy he drew upon was nascent and new, but not strong enough to pull Sam from the edge of death. He was too far gone. Steve needed more to save Sam.

Intuitively, Steve reached out with one hand while keeping his other firmly on Sam’s torso. He grasped Tony’s hand and said, “I need more.” 

Confused, Tony wavered as if he might snatch his hand away from Steve, but he tentatively allowed his touch. The hum of energy running through Tony vibrated like a racecar engine. More than a car, it throttled through Steve, galloping with unbridled need and yearning to break free. Steve became the conduit of that energy; it flowed through him, finding ground within Sam’s horrific injuries. Before him, the organs pinked up, losing their graying color, the blood pumped through repaired vessels, the heart beat with a strong, steady rhythm. The pulse of energy strumming through Steve increased the rate of his own heart beat until he nearly had to gasp for breath as if he’d walked back in time and suffered from asthma again. But he never relented. He kept his hand on Sam, following the course of the wounds, the energy sewing them back together, giving over what he drank from Tony to mend what had been damaged. 

The burning in his hands subsided and he stumbled away, breaking contact with both Sam and Tony. A rush of medical personnel went to Sam’s side as Steve swayed on his feet, gulping in air and shuddering. As Steve crouched over as if he’d just finished running a marathon, Tony wrapped an arm around his bent shoulders. Steve panted, desperate for breath.

“You okay?”

Steve couldn’t catch his breath enough to talk, but he nodded as he worked to even out his breathing. He placed hands on his own knees as he inhaled, held it, and then slowly exhaled. Tears burnt his eyes. Tony rubbed his shoulders. Finally, Steve managed to take in enough air to ask, “You?”

Tony paled but his hands stayed on Steve as if to lose contact might mean he would sail away in the wind. “Shaken. That was fucking weird. How did you do that?” His tone was light, but his expression was anything but – the levity drawn out by the monumental moments. 

Steve shook his head. “No idea.” He chanced standing up straight. Tony followed him, clinging to him. A whirl of dizziness hit Steve, but he closed his eyes and eased it away. When he opened them, Natasha and Shuri were gathered around him. An older man with features similar to Shuri’s had joined their group. He stood next to Shuri.

“Now we know what Divini you are,” Shuri smirked. “My brother, I told you he was Divini.”

Brother – that would make the man she spoke to the king, T’Challa. T’Challa winked at his sister and then bowed his head. “I bow to your most excellent intellect.”

“Yes you do,” she said and then arched an eyebrow as she went to check on her patient – who was slowly waking up. No wounds marred his physique. 

From Steve’s perspective a short distance away, Sam looked as if he had been slumbering like Ichabod Crane waiting to be awakened from a long afternoon nap. Sam smiled as he woke and then furrowed his brows as his foreign surroundings came into focus. 

“What the?” He started to rise but one of the attending medical staff placed a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve been through quite a lot. And it was miraculous and quite exciting to watch. We got it on video-.” Shuri was tapping on her bracelet as she spoke.

T’Challa interrupted his sister. “Shuri!”

She rolled her eyes and then patted Sam on the shoulder. “Your friends are here.”

Sam blinked a few times and surveyed the strange medical bay again. Steve sympathized with his confusion. When he woke up in Wakanda he’d thought he somehow ended up in the distant future – again. 

Sam rubbed at his eyes and then asked, “Where’s here? What friends?” He grabbed at the side of the table as if he might leap off. 

Steve joined the crowd around the gurney. Healing Sam had weakened Steve, causing an exhaustion to overcome him. He hungered to sit out in the sun for hours and sleep himself. He wondered if that was what he needed or if he was just imagining things. First things first – attending Sam’s questions.

“Sam,” Steve said as he offered a hand. Sam grasped it. “You’re in Wakanda, a nation that is sympathetic to the vampire cause. I – We were able to heal you of your wounds.”

“Wounds?” Sam scrunched up his features and then flinched as the memories must have collided in his consciousness. He dropped back down on the table, closing his eyes and pushing the heels of his hands into them. “Gone crazy. The whole fucking country. Shit. I thought I was dead.” 

“You very nearly were,” Shuri said but had the good sense to clamp down on the rest of the information.

“We were able to save you. I’m not sure,” Steve continued. “How you feel now, but I wanted to thank you again. You put yourself on the line for me and for Clint. You didn’t have to do that, and they came after you because of that.”

Sam’s usual smile faded. He went to sit up and the medical staff stepped back, allowing him. “God, Steve, I didn’t know it was that bad until everything happened. They didn’t come until after the attack on the Triskelion. The whole place just fucking blew up after that. The President declared martial law. Congress wouldn’t stand up to him. Forget about checks and balances.”

Steve glanced over at Tony who stayed back from the bed. He waved for Tony to join them. When he did, Steve introduced him. “Sam, this is my mate, Tony.”

Sam reached out but held an arm over his mid-section. “Nice to meet you.”

Tony nodded. “Good to see you’re feeling better, what with the lack of like everything you had when you arrived.” Tony gestured over Sam’s entire body making him frown. “Well, you’re good now. All better. Miracles and all.”

When Sam looked between Steve and Tony and his frown deepened, Steve said, “He’s usually very intelligent. I swear. But the last few weeks have been -.”

“Weird,” Tony inserted. He looked like he might fall over, crumple and just disintegrate. Steve empathized. “Very, very weird.”

“You could say that,” Steve said and smiled. It felt raw though, as if his facial muscles forgot how to do a simple movement of joy and happiness. When he considered all that happened, knowing that Sam was safe, Steve took his friend’s hand and clasped it. “It’s good to see you well. It’s good to see you safe.”

“Steve?” Sam asked. The seriousness of the situation settled over them like the cloak of night. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we? All the vampires, the mates, the sympathizers. With the US going full hog crazy, we’re all in a world of trouble, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Steve admitted. “Right now, though, rest. We have to figure out what needs to be done and we’re safe because of Wakanda, but we can’t put this place in danger. We will need to go back. So sleep now.” 

The medical staff went back to work, monitoring and checking Sam’s vitals. He looked spent to Steve and soon as the nurses and doctors busied themselves, Sam drifted off to sleep. Steve and Tony stayed to the side out of the way until it was confirmed that Sam was out of the woods and in perfect health but in need of rest. 

Tony leaned up to Steve and whispered, “Think it would be okay if we leave? Just for a bit?”

Steve nodded. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to collapse. Whatever had happened, however he managed to heal Sam, the act drained him. He allowed Tony to grasp his hand and lead him out of the medical bay. As they slipped down the hallway, Natasha caught up with them. 

“We need to talk.”

“Not now,” Steve said. He glanced at Tony, seeing the same exhaustion in his eyes that settled in Steve’s core. He put his hand up to ward off Natasha’s protestations. “We’re not going to abandon our home, but we need to-.” He stopped – admitting it to Natasha brought all the pain to the surface. 

“Just not now,” Tony said and tugged Steve along, leaving Natasha standing in the hallway. “Don’t worry. She has Thor and the whole of the covens at her beck and call. We can take a minute to rest.”

Steve followed Tony, the guilt mounting. He forced himself not to look back. His brain felt thick, like he waded through mud. He knew Tony was right. Just one look at his mate and he had to admit that Tony needed the rest. What Tony had been through and how strong he’d been since only ate away at his reserves, Steve was sure. When the King of Wakanda stepped in their path, Steve almost begged off.

“I wish only a moment with the Captain,” T’Challa said.

Steve looked between the king and Tony. With only a curt nod, Tony released him, and Steve wanted to protest, but Tony urged him on with a quick wave. “I’ll meet you back in your room.”

Steve stood there as Tony walked away, hand to his hair and messing it as he left. He turned to T’Challa to voice his appreciation for the safe harbor, but T’Challa quieted him with a look and ushered him to a private room. T’Challa closed the door behind him. The small but cozy room was filled with relics and art of the country’s history. Steve had always been a history buff and imagined immersing himself in the art, finding out about its lineage, where it came from, who made it, how it was made. The colors alone fascinated him. He needed to get back to Tony so he turned his attention to the king.

“Sit, Captain,” T’Challa offered and then went to a counter near windows. He poured two glasses of juice and handed one to Steve as he sat oppose Steve in the highbacked cushioned chair. “Your country is in turmoil.”

Steve bowed his head in agreement. 

“Wakanda may shelter you, but we are not in a position to wage war on a giant bent on its puritanical views of love and life,” T’Challa said. He sipped the juice. “We are ready to give aid to the world where we can, but I must protect my land at the same time.”

“I agree, your highness. I appreciate everything that you and your people have done for us,” Steve replied, the stress tightening his shoulders as he spoke. “If you hadn’t taken us in, I have to admit, I’m not sure I would have healed or what would have happened to us.”

T’Challa’s dark eyes reflected the light from the window, a million colors drown in them, a million responsibilities to his nation. “I am not here to cause you anxiety. You are welcome here for as long as you need. But I wonder, Captain, if you realize what has been done does not save your country.”

Steve furrowed his brows. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Wasn’t the mantra of your Hydra, cut off one head, two will take its place?” T’Challa asked and leaned forward. “Your escape with Mister Stark and Natasha’s coven surely did cut off the heads of part of the government of your country, but just because you have done that does not mean you have rooted out the cause of all evil. The root of it still exists in your lands. It rots the land and poisons it.”

Steve sighed, the weight of it felt like a crushing blow to his gut. He’d only just spoken the same thing to Tony. “I know. You can take out the leader but that doesn’t mean the rest will follow you.” He nodded. “I get that, I do. But I have to believe there’s still good in the place I call home.”

“Then what is it you intend to do?” T’Challa asked. Was it a challenge or a question? Maybe it was both mixed up with the hell the world had become with America at its lead. T’Challa placed his juice on the table next to his chair. “I want to be helpful to you. I want to support you. But you must understand the pressures-.”

“I do, I do!” Steve snapped and then closed his eyes. “Sorry.” He opened his eyes and placed his untouched glass on the table as well. Staring down at his hands, hands that had only just healed – miraculously healed – Sam. “If I could place these hands on the whole of my nation, the world, I would. If I knew how to heal it, I would.”

T’Challa studied Steve with an eye like a scientist investigating a new species of insect. “We all have our labels that say much about who we want to be and who people think we are. With your mate you both are a gift to this world, to your nation. You only have to use it and use it well to find a new peace.” He sat back and studied Steve again. “You know how to do this, Captain. You just have to find your way.”

Steve chewed on his cheek and then said, “It’s who we are. Mates. Isn’t it? It isn’t about the power but about who we are.” Steve jumped to his feet, not sure if he was breaking some royal protocol, not sure that he cared. “There are mates all over America. So many of them. So many families with vampires as their sisters, brothers, and so on. They surely don’t want this war against their loved ones. They surely don’t want to break apart a nation with such promise.”

T’Challa smiled up at Steve, his eyebrow arched. “I think you understand, Captain.”

The power of T’Challa’s gaze quelled some of Steve’s enthusiasm. “Sorry, your highness.” He went back to the chair, but T’Challa climbed to his feet. 

“There is no need for apologies, my friend. I think we understand one another.”

“Yes, I think we do.”

After, Steve found his way back to his apartment, somewhat revitalized for the battles ahead. When he found the rooms quiet and empty, something panged in his heart. A loneliness rubbed deep. He didn’t like not being with Tony now. Tony’s transformation changed him to Steve’s shield. Their relationship would shift now, even more so then before. They were both Divini and Tony didn’t need Steve’s blood anymore. Were they still mated? Tony had said they were – in so many ways. Steve drifted to the balcony, the sun. The sun drew Steve, and denying it was foolish. Steve went to the lounger on the balcony and laid down. His muscles ached, his head throbbed, and a hollow empty place in his chest seeped through him like a poison. The reinvented hope in his heart felt distant and foolish in the silence of his apartment. Since his imprisonment, Steve spent most of his time unmoored. The little time he dedicated to himself had been like this: alone, swallowed up by the enormity of what had happened and what was going to happen. He wasn’t himself anymore – he knew that – not the Steve Rogers that grew up on the mean streets of the early 20th century. He wasn’t even Captain America anymore. 

He wanted Tony here with him. 

Standing, Steve decided to go to Tony – tell him what he needed. Stop this merry-go-round in his head. As he went to the balcony door, a tapping sounded and then the apartment door opened. Tony entered. He had sunglasses on and a long-sleeved linen jacket and pants to match. 

“Tony,” Steve said. His mouth was like parchment.

Tony didn’t reply. Instead he walked right over to Steve into the sunlight. “You need rest after everything that happened today. Sleep.” He pointed to the lounger that was easily large enough for two. 

Steve started to disagree. “You can’t be out in the sun”

“Wakanda’s dome protects me.” Tony stepped around Steve and then sat on the lounger. “Sit.” He patted the cushioned lounger. “Plus, Bruce and I are working on a formula, a sunscreen like you said, for daytime exposure.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve said.

“I won’t – that’s the beauty of being a vampire Divini – it can’t hurt me anymore, remember. It will just make it more difficult to use my abilities, if you know what I mean,” Tony said and patted the lounger again. “Unless you would like me to leave?”

“No!” He sat next to Tony. “I just – I want you to feel comfortable, too. I don’t want you to sacrifice for me.” Was that true? “I want you to be with me.” He took in a deep breath, held it, and then released it. “Talking to T’Challa changed everything again. I feel like I’m desperately trying to catch up.”

Tony remained contemplative and asked, “What did he say?”

“You can guess probably. Wakanda is here for us, but we have to do the bulk of the work. I agreed. We do. It’s our problem. Wakanda seems to have their head on straight as far as vampires and Divini are concerned.” Steve sank down next to Tony. “And I have ideas, how we can appeal to the people, the everyday people, but still.”

“Still it hurts like a bullet to the chest that your own country betrayed you. Did this to you.” Tony kept his eyes down, focused on his scarred and glowing hands.

Steve grasped them. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“And you wonder, are they worth it? Are they worth the sacrifice?” Tony asked, and Steve caught sight of a single blood red tear fall and drop onto their clasped hands.

“I have to believe it,” Steve said slowly and quietly. “I have to believe they are. Otherwise, what kind of world are we living in?”

“Yeah,” Tony murmured. Steve gathered him in his arms and cradled Tony. 

“We’re one and the same. Feel it.”

Hands woven together, the energy of their history – their bond grew prominent. The promises of their energies linked, encompassed Steve and he could no more deny the truth of it than he could deny the moon a place in the night sky. It drew Steve closer, brought him to a place inside his soul that ached to be with Tony. Steve leaned in; their foreheads touched as he closed his eyes. 

Every drop of blood he gave over to Tony, he had done so freely. He’d died to give Tony life again and then Tony offered the same back. The energy binding them grew in intensity while the sun rays gave him new life. Slowly they eased back onto the lounger with Tony hanging over Steve as he reclined. 

“Don’t leave me,” Tony said. “I know things are different now. I know you need your space but stay with me.”

“What does it mean to be us now?” Steve asked. “I’m not sure anymore.”

“What does it mean to be in love for anyone? Just because we’re this strange new thing, doesn’t mean we’re not us,” Tony whispered and bent closer to Steve, awaiting his signal.

They kissed. Soft. Sweet. 

It promised and offered. When Tony shifted to move away, Steve grasped Tony to him, not letting him go, prolonging the kiss so that he could taste this new thing, the transformation of who they were together. Each of them had changed in their individual way, and their pairing evolved as well. The very energy streaming between them became a thing itself – an entity of life pulsing between them. Just moments ago, Steve had given up hope, had dissolved the relationship in his head. He’d almost toppled and fell, crushed by the profundity of their potential, what they could be, what they had become. Love did that – scared and terrified. It wasn’t a happily ever after. Happiness and love weren’t romantic comedies or fairy tales. Instead it was this thing – an almost a living being that had the weight life. It lived between them and in them. 

As Steve sank into the kiss, he allowed himself the release of the tension in his shoulders, in his gut where fear resided. Steve found Tony’s touch familiar, a welcome home and not a reminder of what had been, of those forced to do things to him. Tony honored the trepidation Steve clung to and never pushed or prodded. Most of their touches were chaste and tender. Some were more liberal and daring. But mainly on that sunny afternoon in the Fall of the year, they re-discovered what it meant to be in love.

 

EPILOGUE – Three Months after the Escape from the Triskelion

Tony fiddled with his tie. He wasn’t used to wearing decent clothing anymore. During his time as a vampire, he dressed low profile since he spent most of his time wandering the streets or securely in his laboratory at one of his safe houses tinkering away for the good of a company he legally no longer owned. The jacket around his shoulders constricted and he swore to hell and back that the tie was trying to strangle him. He heard the shower in the ensuite bathroom switch off and Tony cursed again. They’d flown to Vienna with the official Wakanda delegation to an emergency meeting of the United Nations Council on Vampire-Human Affairs.

Emergency might be a stretch, considering it took T’Challa and Steve over three months to force the issue and cause the Security Council to demand a resolution by the VH Affairs group. It surprised Tony that the United States hadn’t vetoed the action, though it still might try and block any recommendations. Everyone was on edge. The world balanced on the tip of a knife – any moment it would topple. No one thought this meeting would change that, at least not in their delegation. The most they hoped for was a détente or at least an avenue to begin some talks. The situation in the US had spread to other vampire fearing countries and Tony had his doubts that revealing the Divini at this moment was a good idea. Even within their group they split along ideological lines. Natasha headed up a group that advocated for a strong, forceful statement which included threats to the populace. Steve opposed that method and pushed for a more civil presentation. With only a handful of Divini in the world, Tony advanced the thought that they still needed to lay low, regardless of what powers they had. Mobs could easily overwhelm them. 

“You still worried about today?” 

Steve’s question brought Tony out of his reverie. He turned from the mirror and smiled, it felt crooked as if it bent under so much pressure. “Aren’t you?” He pulled the tie from his neck. “I still think it’s too soon. We can’t do this. There aren’t enough of us.”

“That’s precisely why we have to do it now,” Steve said. The towel he wore slung low on his hips and the water from the shower still glistened over his shoulders and pectoral muscles. He looked delightful and Tony wanted time to devour him. The hunger to taste was no longer there, but it was – in a different way. They’d slowly made their way back to each other. Tony never bit anymore, not even a nibble. That one afternoon on the balcony resonated with Tony, the way they fit together in the softest, most tender way. It helped Tony accept his new transformation as well as led him toward a vision of a future with Steve. Though they hadn’t made love, it had felt like it – more so than it ever had for Tony. He needed that connection. From that afternoon until this morning, they hadn’t strayed from one another’s side. The intimacy of being with Steve deepened Tony’s connection with him. 

Something new grew between them. Laying together under the stars as Tony renewed his depleted reserves, the pulse of energy cascaded around them like the mist from a waterfall. Steve had waved his hands through it, swirling the energy like a whirlpool of stars around them. It entranced Steve and he grinned at Tony like a child in a toy store. “Why do you think we can see it now? We can’t normally.”

Tony wanted to say love, but embarrassment at his corniness won over and he shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe because we’re relaxed.”

Steve had shifted and looked directly at Tony, eyes wide with hope. “Maybe it’s something more?”

Tony swallowed down his fear. “Maybe?”

Steve urged Tony on, but he’d stopped. He didn’t want to cross that line until Steve was ready – plus he needed more time to trust as well. It was strange in a way. Tony had become more stoic after his experience while Steve grew more demonstrative and expressive. They’d switched roles in that regard. Now their relationship developed and expanded until Steve became part of Tony as an arm or a leg. The thought of parting from Steve brought him close to hysteria. He knew it wasn’t as healthy as it should be, but hell, to him, nothing about the situation was healthy. Their powers complemented one another and built on one another. Tony saw it as a natural extension of who they were, what they were. Plus, it offered Tony something he’d lost on that roof in the blazing sun. It offered him faith and hope. He’d thought those ideas and emotions had dried up and flaked off much like his body had in response to the sun. Yet, Steve’s tentative steps back to humanity and his growing strength in his recovery reignited the same hope and faith in Tony.

Now, Tony had to face the world as T’Challa asked for a reprieve and security for all vampires and mates. If they couldn’t get that – then their delegation would enact the next phrase of their plan: activate mates as their way to change the world and become known as Divini the globe over. 

“Here,” Steve said. “Let me help you with that.” He reached over and retrieved the tie Tony mutilated in his hand. He pressed it with his fingers, trying to get out the wrinkles. Slipping it around Tony’s neck he started to tie the knot. “Maybe afterward we can go for a stroll. It’ll be dark by then. You’ll feel more rested, more like yourself.”

“What about this is like myself?” Tony said. He could still remember cuddling with Steve after drinking his fill. He missed those days but not the anxiety of worry that came with them. Yet, even now, a new stressor ate at his brain. He stilled Steve’s hands. “Do you feel different? Like an alien in your body?”

“You’re asking me?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t even lived in my souped up body longer than I lived in my sickly scrawny one. So I get it, I understand. But this.” He clasped Tony’s hand, palm to palm. Their palms heated again, as they always did now. Energy flowed between them. No other vampire or Divini experienced this pairing, this integration of powers so profoundly. “Feels like a privilege I didn’t earn.”

“Shit, Steve,” Tony said and brought Steve’s knuckles to his lips. He kissed his love’s fingers. “You earned it. God, you went through so much.”

“We both did.”

“We gotta find a way out of this. We’ve been stuck trying to make sense of this for ages, it feels like.” Tony leaned into him, placed his head on Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve braced them, holding them both up. “I know. But this is the start of a new life now. I don’t just see this as us against the world like it used to be. I see this as us joining the world for the first time in forever. We can walk outside hand in hand. We can declare who we are.” Steve kissed the crown of Tony’s head. “You get that right?”

“God, yes,” Tony said. The acceptance spread through him. He hadn’t considered the small personal consequences of who they were out in the world. Sure, they could walk freely in Wakanda, but nowhere else. It freed him inside and his soul sang in celebration. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“We’re going to make it through this,” Steve whispered and then bent in to kiss Tony. The kiss electrified, tingling through his lips and sending pulses to awaken his nerve fibers and bring alive his senses. 

“I missed this,” Tony murmured as they broke apart.

“Maybe after the Council meeting, we could come back here. Forget about everything else, everyone else. Just us,” Steve said. His large hand never left Tony’s cheek as he gazed into Tony’s eyes, not shying away from his alienness. “I want to be with you, Tony.”

“God, I want to-.” Tony did. His mind begged him to be with Steve, it brought life to his body – a body that had died, had been undead, and died again. Now resurrected, he’d become something new and promising. All he needed was that match to fulfill him and show him more – show him life. 

A knock on the door interrupted them. Steve peered over his shoulder as he said, “Yes?”

Natasha opened the door and peeked in. “We’re almost ready. Are you coming?” 

“We’re almost there.”

“You’re not even dressed, Steve.” Natasha hissed.

“You’re not my coven mistress, you know,” Steve said and left Tony’s side to push the door closed. “We’ll be right out.” Turning, Steve asked, “She’s not a coven mistress anymore, is she? I mean technically, she’s not even a vampire.” 

Tony waved him off. “Don’t think about it. You’ll hurt yourself.” He closed the distance between them and held onto Steve – the energy between them was like a live wire. “Let’s get this over with so we can come back here.”

“Really?” 

Tony smiled, squeezing Steve’s hands. The flare of his energy shone in his chest and warmed his hands. “Yeah.”

Battles and wars are hard won things. Sacrifices are made, and losses incurred. The moment that T’Challa took the floor at the Council meeting, Tony watched as the world unfolded like a flower blossom, petals opening to a new day. It wouldn’t be all beautiful and joyous. He spotted the opposition easily enough. Everyone did. Evolution of thought took more than a declaration. It required sacrifice. It took time to weed out the opposition as well as the indifference. Even indifference rotted the best of intentions. Steve re-assured Tony. After the meeting, after all the questions and the fearmongering and the media hype, it was a declaration, a proclamation to the rest of the world that their middle-aged ideas were past and a new age had begun. It was only a start, a beginning. The rest would be hard fought if won at all. 

Finally, Tony and Steve found their way back to their hotel again. They made love that day. Maybe in celebration or maybe in a last ditch effort to feel everything before the collapse of their hopes. Now as Divini their lovemaking transformed. Form and energy collided into an explosion of body heat, thrusting and merging, and finally a heavy need to be – to be together and never parted. The energy between them that made them both life and death fused into a brilliant conflagration. Beyond their bodies, the touch of flesh against flesh, the hungry kisses and licks, the exploration of fingers and the final penetration, their energies flared together, merging and suffusing to become one with each other. Tony became part of Steve as Steve welcomed him and they cried out their joy together. Every molecule flared and flamed: they rode through it, alive and bright in their aspect. Together.

As they lay together – recovering – Tony understood they followed a new path now. He’d left being human behind, as he had with being vampire as well. The world, the universe, lay at their feet, and Tony discovered he wished not for it to kowtow to him, but to see him as he really was – as a person – an equal. Part of him still hungered for revenge and every day he had to quell that part, a part in misery because of the agony he endured. He witnessed the same in Steve. A good man, but a man still tortured by his past. Together they battled to remain free of becoming jaded, and instead they strived to free themselves of the bonds of hatred to lead the way to a better place, a better world. For now, they became stronger in who they were, more powerful in their gifts.

They curled into one another, sheltering each other from the outside. Their energy sheltered them, bright and brilliant. While the world begged them to attend their newest responsibilities, tonight Tony gave nothing over to it. The only person he cared about was in his arms. Tomorrow they would concern themselves with the crumbling of the world, tonight they would find love in each other’s arms. Tonight, they became a Divini mated pair. 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> The graphic symbolism of torture for Tony is blatant and meant to be! He's transforming into a god...
> 
> Thank you for reading my story. Comments and kudos are appreciated and loved. You can find me at my tumblr: [winterstar](https://winterstar95.tumblr.com)


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